


A Talented Place...Like Nashville

by HappySprout



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Band Fic, F/F, F/M, Purgatory, Wayhaught - Freeform, WynDoc - Freeform, WynHaught - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29166270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappySprout/pseuds/HappySprout
Summary: [Rated mature for language mainly. May change later.]After a complicated divorce, Nicole Haught is offered a job in the picturesque mountain town of Purgatory…only to land herself at the centre of a make-or-break situation for a popular local band.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp & Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp/Doc Holliday, Xavier Dolls/Wynonna Earp
Comments: 53
Kudos: 139





	1. You Wouldn't Know Me

**Author's Note:**

> Country-music/Band AU
> 
> This is my first ever fic...and actually, my first ever attempt at writing anything at all. It might not be an idea you're into but this is the kind of fic I like to read so figured I'd share it in case you do too.
> 
> [I'm from the UK so please excuse any British spelling etc]
> 
> @lollypopadoodle on Tumblr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'What do you think of Purgatory so far?'

_‘At the intersection, make a left turn onto - Main Street.’_

She hums towards the robotic voice and reaches for the turn-signal.

She’s travelling at a glacial pace. A mixture of curiosity and cluelessness about this strange new place keeping her foot from being firmer on the gas pedal. She knows it’s annoying Shae behind her but she decides she doesn’t care enough to change it. Plus, they’re almost there. The Google Maps app on her phone, safely cradled against the windshield, estimates two minutes…but given their current speed, it’ll be more like five.

She’s admiring a particularly excessive holiday window display inside a store named “McCready’s” – which gives absolutely no indication as to what it sells – when she realises that the traffic light ahead has turned red in the meantime. She’s about to roll right through it when she slams her foot on the brake and comes to a stop with a jolt, front tyres on the white line. There’s a hiss from the basket on the seat beside her but she ignores it, choosing to check the rear-view mirror first and make sure the U-Haul truck behind her stops in time too.

It does. A graceful halt accompanies a brief high-pitched whine that Nicole can hear over the twangy country song playing on the radio. She catches Shae’s eye in the mirror and immediately looks _anywhere else_. God, this is weird.

She hadn’t wanted her help. She had a bunch of other people she knows she could’ve asked to drive the U-Haul for her. But Shae had insisted. Guilty conscience maybe that she got to keep their apartment and everything in it while Nicole was left with nothing even remotely practical for moving to an entirely new place. No couch, no TV, not even an actual bed. The truck contained a brand-new mattress, a few boxes, an old piano that had belonged to her aunt and uncle and not much else.

It didn’t intimidate Nicole though. She had the things she really valued with her in her car – her cat, her dog, her collection of guitars (four in all) – plus the car itself. A 1974 Ford Bronco…in orange.

She taps the steering wheel to the beat, looking again towards the store on the corner (an easy excuse to avoid her ex-wife in the mirror) where a guy struggles to pull the door open. His arms are laden with paper bags as the bell above his head tinkles and Nicole figures it’s a grocery store as the light turns green.

She doesn’t know why she feels so nervous. She was fine when she left home.

No. Left Calgary. This is home now, she supposes.

She feels like an imposter. A town like this is probably one of those places where everyone knows everyone else. Where kids have grown into adults together. Where people are born and where those same people die. She imagines feeling like an outsider in a party that’s tough to crash and she hasn’t even found her house yet.

She turns left, as instructed, glances back to make sure Shae is following in the truck and proceeds to take in the now fully revealed Main Street of Purgatory, Alberta.

There’s a church on the right-hand side, a long row of stores and the like on the left. A pharmacy, a book store, McCready’s and then what looks to be a bar at the end.

‘Shorty’s.’ she reads aloud as she ambles past.

It’s a picture-postcard kind of place. Snow-capped mountains flank it on all sides and fairy-lights are strung between street lights and telephone poles. The sidewalks are busy with shoppers preparing for Christmas and any cars on the road move cautiously across the slush to avoid spraying their fellow townsfolk. No-one is being quite as careful as Nicole however.

One building, sand-coloured and ordinary, jumps out at her immediately when her eyes finally find it – the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.

‘Ah ha.’ she says to herself as she appraises her new workplace, a block down from the church.

She’s been here once before, a few weeks ago for her interview with the town’s Sheriff, but was so nervous that she clearly didn’t pay attention to any of the surroundings or even the building itself. She stares at it…until her phone interrupts again.

_‘Turn right onto - Buffalo Street’_

‘Wow. This _is_ close.’

She knew her new house had been advertised as being “close to the centre of town” but she didn’t realise that meant a mere two hundred metres from it. She pats the steering wheel of the Bronco apologetically as if it somehow already knows how little it’ll be needed from now on.

It takes her a minute but she eventually finds the one she’s looking for - number thirty-eight – and stops by the kerb just outside. She looks up at it from the driver’s seat, as if unclipping her seat belt and opening the door somehow makes this more real.

It’s a nice house. Hell, it’s a _really_ nice house. It has a small front yard, bordered with a white picket fence; a small porch; three bedrooms and two washrooms. It’s also supposed to have a good-sized back yard which is “perfect for dogs” according to the online ad. Nicole has never physically been inside, having done all the rental arrangements online in a panic after actually being offered a job with the PSD. She took the first house she saw within her price range and here she is. It’s more than double the size of the one-bedroom apartment she’s leaving behind in downtown Calgary and she’s starting to feel a little anxious about not having enough furniture to fill it.

She finally undoes her belt and leans down into the passenger-side footwell to pet the soft head of her sleeping dog to wake him.

‘Arlo,’ she sings softly and he lifts his head to look at her. ‘Hey buddy. We’re here.’

At the sound of her door opening, he leaps to his feet and can barely stand with how hard his tail is swishing. He climbs up onto the seat by Calamity Jane’s cat basket and stands up at the window, waiting for Nicole to come around and get him.

‘Which one is it?’ Shae asks, hopping down from the truck and looking between Nicole’s new house and the one next door.

‘The blue one,’ is all Nicole says as she opens the Bronco’s passenger door just wide enough to slide her arm in. She takes hold of Arlo’s collar before opening it fully so he doesn’t jump out and run off. ‘Good boy.’ she tells him as he settles in her arms.

‘Nice. _Expensive_.’

Shae phrases it like a statement, a question and a judgement all rolled into one and Nicole glares at her, shuffling Arlo into one arm so the other is free for Calamity’s basket.

‘Do you need a hand or…?’

‘I got it.’ Nicole says and slams the car door closed with her foot.

She and Shae end up standing together on the sidewalk, looking up at the house in silence. Nicole’s deep breath is released as a cloud in the cold mountain air and she pushes through the gate towards the front door. She pops Calamity onto the floor and fishes the set of keys she was given from her coat pocket as Shae, unsure what to do now that will annoy Nicole the least, follows awkwardly. She bends to try and pick the basket up for her but Nicole beats her to it as the front door swings open.

It makes gentle contact with the wall behind and echoes eerily. The house is completely empty and the wooden floors and lack of drapes mean any sound is free to run wild. Shae lets out a low, impressed whistle as Nicole busies herself with the catch on the basket to release Calamity Jane. But the cat is broody about moving and doesn’t come out immediately even though the door is open.

‘That’s OK, girl,’ Nicole tells her. ‘Take your time.’

She slides it over a little so she isn’t right in the middle of the entryway and stands up straight again, now cradling Arlo in both arms like a baby.

‘This place is beautiful, Nic.’ Shae says, wandering in a slow circle and taking everything in.

‘It’ll do.’

‘It’ll do?’ Shae raises a playful eyebrow, completely at odds with the vibe Nicole is giving her.

‘Mmhmm. Anyway, just let me put him somewhere he won’t escape from while we unload the truck. Then you can go.’

She didn’t mean it to sound rude or ungrateful but she’s pretty sure it did. This whole move was supposed to be her escape from Shae and that whole situation. Yet here she is, standing in her hallway and Nicole can’t help but be desperate for her to leave so she can finally get on with moving on.

She doesn’t apologise even though she knows she probably should and she jogs up the unfamiliar staircase, opening the first door she comes to. It leads to a small-ish room, empty again, which has a view of the back yard. She puts Arlo down on the floor and he gets to work immediately sniffing every square inch of the threadbare carpet. ‘I’ll be right back, I swear,’ she promises. ‘Ten minutes max. Please don’t pee on the floor.’

He’s only a puppy so it’s a fair assumption. A gorgeous Golden Retriever/German Shepherd mix (an educated guess by the vet) that Nicole found by chance during a drugs case with the Calgary Police Service. He’d been left tied to a fence at eight weeks old when their suspects skipped town in a hurry and Nicole fell in love with him from the moment that she saw him. While it had taken some work, she’d eventually been allowed to adopt him afterwards and a sweeter dog she couldn’t imagine…but dumb as rocks now he was four months old.

She closes the door to the little bedroom and comes back down to the hallway to find that Shae has already started bringing boxes in. She makes a quick check on Calamity, still balled up at the back of the basket, before going back outside to the truck.

‘Couldn’t you have just put him in the back yard?’ Shae asks, echo-y in the rear of the near-empty van.

‘I haven’t been able to check it yet. There might be places he can get out.’

It takes some effort but between the two of them they manage to roll the piano down a ramp from the U-Haul and into the house. Next comes the mattress, which Nicole insists she can handle alone, and Shae takes charge of the giant beanbag Nicole hasn’t used since college. She figured it would do for somewhere to sit until she gets an actual couch.

Then they’re back on the sidewalk, awkwardly standing by the truck and unsure what to say or do now that the work is done.

‘Guess this is it.’ says Shae with a sad finality that Nicole doesn’t completely trust.

‘Guess so. Thanks for helping me out.’

‘No problem. Any time.’

There’s another long silence then and Nicole swings her arms. This is so weird; please just go already.

‘Well,’ Shae eventually says, taking a couple of steps towards the driver’s door. ‘I should get going.’

She turns then and surveys Nicole, like she’s committing her to memory, then makes the bizarre decision to approach her with her arms outstretched. Nicole, caught off guard, allows herself to be enveloped in what might be the most uncomfortable hug ever experienced. Luckily for her, Shae doesn’t draw it out and she’s released as fast as she was trapped.

‘See you around, Nicole.’

Nicole just nods and waits, out of politeness mainly, for Shae to climb up into the truck and start the engine. The street looks to be a dead-end and Nicole knows Shae may need to manoeuvre a little to get herself turned around. She doesn’t stay to watch and instead heads inside, finally able to close the door on Shae in more ways than one.

She leans her back against the wood and slides down to sit on the floor, intending to wait until the U-Haul’s engine has faded away and only then go out and get her guitars.

She can hear Arlo crying and scratching upstairs so she goes up to let him out now that the front door is shut. He’s been a good boy – no accidents – and he races past her, starting his investigation of this strange new environment in earnest.

She has to put her shoulder into it but she eventually manages to slide the glass door that leads to the back yard open. Its lawn is more dirt than grass at this point with small snow drifts around the edges, but the fence looks secure so she’s confident when Arlo squeezes past her legs and starts lapping.

She wanders to the back and turns to cast a critical eye over the rear of the house, checking for potential issues but there aren’t any. The windows and doors are in good condition, the roof and chimney look fine and there are no obvious problems with the drainage system…

She sighs and toes a patch of dirt; solid in these temperatures. She knows she’s been lucky with this house, this job, this new town, but she can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. She’s lived in Calgary her whole life. It’s everything she knows. What if she hates it here? And she thinks that, even if she does, she won’t actually be able to go home again now. It all feels so…permanent. Maybe that’s the overwhelming part.

She leaves Arlo in the yard but keeps the door open a little so he can come back in when he’s cold. It’s childish, she knows, but she crouches down at the window by the front door anyway and makes sure Shae and the U-Haul have definitely gone before she goes out again.

Five minutes later and there’s four guitar cases lined up in the hallway by Calamity’s now empty basket. Nicole supposes she’s gone upstairs to sulk somewhere. She’ll check on her in a little while.

Two at a time, Nicole hauls the cases upstairs and puts them in the small room she’d left Arlo in earlier. They look a little sad being the only things in there but she supposes she has all the time in the world to find a more fitting place for them.

Next, she clumsily heaves the still plastic-clad mattress up and flops it down on the floor of the room she assumes is the master bedroom. It has a view of the street outside but if she presses her cheek to the glass and looks down to the left, she can see the very edges of the PSD building and the bar called Shorty’s.

The old upright piano can just stay where it is, she thinks, but she rolls it heavily against the hallway wall and under the stairs so it’s a little tidier. After that, it’s just unceremoniously tossing the beanbag into the living room and unpacking a couple of boxes left to do. One that she labelled with a childlike sharpie drawing of a pawprint contains all the stuff Arlo and Calamity are going to need – food, bowls, toys and beds – and another is her essentials box with some clothes, bed sheets, just enough kitchenware for the one person and some bathroom things.

After all that is done, she has no idea what to do with herself so she takes off her coat and wanders around.

She opens every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen despite knowing that, logically, they’ll all be empty save for a couple of small spiders. She’s going to need food and supplies before she thinks about doing much else. She puts her single knife, fork and spoon in the top drawer before sliding it closed again with a flourish. Feeling a little more productive now that she has a plan for her next task, she whistles and Arlo stops in his tracks, panting from running circuits between the kitchen, hallway and living room.

‘Up for a walk?’ she asks him and he barks once which she assumes is an affirmative. ‘Alrighty. Let’s find your leash.’

She finds it in his bed, light blue like Scooby-Doo, and clicks it onto his collar, allowing him to drag her towards the front door.

‘Be back soon, Calamity.’ she shouts up the staircase and waits a second to see if she can hear movement upstairs.

Nothing.

Nicole is used to getting compliments about Arlo. He’s very cute after all. But the people of Purgatory seem to be particularly taken with him. She’s introduced to three or four different townsfolk before she’s even left their street; all of whom approached her solely to pat or talk to him and his back is soaked from rolling over on the snowy sidewalk to expose his belly to each and every one.

They’re just rounding the corner by the PSD building when a couple spot him and the woman even bothers to trot to get to them sooner.

‘Aww look at this little guy,’ she says, crouching down to smush Arlo’s face and ears. The man she’s with is a little more reserved and follows her in silence without even really acknowledging Arlo or Nicole. ‘I’m sorry. That was weird of me. Hi.’

‘That’s ok. Hello.’ says Nicole politely, watching Arlo once again throw himself onto the ground for tummy tickles.

The woman is a pretty blonde; early thirties maybe, while the guy is probably a similar age; dark-skinned and solidly-built. The typical strong, silent type that the straights seem to love.

‘He’s adorable,’ the woman says finally as she stands up straight again. ‘I’m desperate for a dog but _he_ says we have to get the wedding out of the way first.’

Her companion shifts his weight between his feet like he can’t wait to leave.

‘Oh. Congratulations.’ Nicole says, squinting against the low sun.

‘Aw you’re too sweet. Thanks. New in town?’

‘Yes Ma’am. Just arrived,’ Nicole extends her hand to the woman. ‘Nicole.’

‘Eliza…and this is Xavier,’ she replies, tapping the man in the chest with her hand. He nods curtly but still says nothing.

Nicole decides not to bother offering her hand to him. Anyone Arlo doesn’t immediately approach gives her instant reservations and the dog has kept an unusual distance.

‘And this guy is?’

‘Oh duh,’ Nicole says stupidly. ‘Arlo. His name’s Arlo.’

‘That is the sweetest name!’

She goes to crouch down to him again but the man, Xavier, takes hold of her arm to stop her. ‘We should get going. I need to get to rehearsal before tonight.’

Ah. So he can speak.

‘OK, sure,’ Eliza concedes. ‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Nicole. And meeting you was nicest of all, Arlo.’

Eliza flashes Nicole a friendly smile as they leave and Nicole happily returns it, studying them. She gets a tough vibe from Eliza. As if she’s perfectly nice…until you’re on the wrong side of her. Xavier however just seems to be a colossal douche. She bets their fights (and sex) are epic.

McCready’s is indeed a grocery store which probably means Nicole shouldn’t try and take Arlo in. Instead, she settles on tying his leash to a tree outside. She hates tying him up places in case he thinks she’s leaving him and while he’s never displayed any PTSD-like symptoms before, she’s still keen to make sure he always knows she’ll come right back for him and she’ll never be leaving him for long.

‘Alright,’ she starts, satisfied with the knot she’s made to keep him secure. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes, OK? I’ll be right back.’

She gives his ears a ruffle for good measure and he puts his front paws on her knees, making little wet prints in the denim of her jeans. She doesn’t mind though; they’re only her moving clothes after all.

One last tickle and she stands up again, her attention so focussed on Arlo that she totally forgets how close she is to the doorway and her shoulder collides with something, some _one_ , walking through it. She manages to knock two paper bags to the ground and every single one of the woman’s groceries lands haphazardly on the sidewalk, most of which are glass bottles that smash all over pavement.

‘Ugh!’

‘Oh my God! Oh my God I’m so sorry!’

‘Nice going, Clifford.’

‘Holy shit; I’m so sorry. I’m so, so…wait, what?’

The woman is only a little shorter than Nicole with dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes, currently surveying the mess on the floor around her feet that Nicole is frantically trying to clear up.

‘Stop. Just stop. You’re literally not even helping.’

‘I’m so sorry. Please let me…here!’ says Nicole, struck by an idea and trying to find her wallet. ‘Let me give you some…oh, I don’t have any cash. Look, come back inside and I’ll-’

‘No. Y’know what. Fuck you, beanpole. I don’t have time for this.’

The woman kicks her foot deliberately through the broken glass as Nicole tries to pick it up, sending a couple of pieces skittering a little further up the sidewalk. ‘Wait-’ Nicole tries.

‘I was already late and now, I’m empty-handed as well.’

Agitated by the snappy tone, Nicole squares her shoulders and drops the couple of shards she’d managed to collect back onto the ground with a tinkle. ‘Hey. It was an accident and I’ve said I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah? Well, your apologies can go fuck themselves too.’

‘Excuse me?!’

Without another word, the woman turns and strides defiantly away, holding her middle finger up and Nicole is stunned by how fast that interaction went from zero to _whatthefuckwasthat_.

‘Here. Let me clean this up,’ a voice behind her says and she spins around in case it’s an accomplice. ‘You’d better pick up that dog in case he steps on any glass.’

Nicole deflates and does as she’s told by the woman who seems to have appeared from nowhere. She’s older with short greying hair, wearing a brown leather apron and carrying a dustpan and brush so it’s probably safe to assume she came from inside the store.

‘I’m so, so sorry. I have no idea what just happened.’

‘Oh, don’t even worry about it. Or her.’

The woman takes in Arlo for the first time and steps closer.

‘Hello little guy. You’re a cutie, eh?’

Nicole struggles to hold him, he’s so desperate to get closer to this lady. ‘His name’s Arlo. I’m Nicole.’

‘Oh. Nice to meet you, Nicole. Thought I didn’t recognise you. Name’s Gus,’ she gestures up the street. ‘Apologies on behalf of my niece.’

‘It was an accident-’

‘Of course, it was. Just ignore her. She never pays for any of it anyway.’

That doesn’t make Nicole feel much better as she casts her eye back to the retreating figure…who is _still_ holding her finger up.

_God, what an asshole!_

Turns out Gus isn’t too hot on the health code and allows Arlo into the store under the condition that she can take him to the office with her while Nicole shops. Nicole weighs the deal up in her head and figures it’s as good an arrangement as any. At least she knows he won’t be outside and vulnerable if that woman comes back to enact revenge.

Once she’s done and her arms are full of bags, she and the dog make their way back to the house. Thankfully he isn’t pulling anymore which makes it easier to juggle everything she’s bought as they cross the slippery street.

She hadn’t planned on it but curiosity gets the better of her on the opposite side and she snoops around the front of the PSD a little. Sheriff Nedley had told her to give him a call when she arrived but she figures if she’s already here, maybe she should just go in instead?

Before she can talk herself out of it, she pulls the public entrance door open with her little finger and strides in more confidently than she feels, Arlo dutifully following.

‘Can I help you, honey?’ asks the woman at the front desk once she clocks Nicole looking a little lost.

‘Oh. Hi. Yes. Thanks,’ She clears her throat. ‘I’m, uh, I’m here to see Sheriff Nedley, if he’s around?’

‘Sure. Who’s asking?’

The woman has picked up the phone, obviously ready to dial through to his office but waits for additional information.

‘Officer Nicole Haught. I’m supposed to be starting here on Monday.’

‘Oh!’ She puts the phone down again without using it and signals excitedly for Nicole to come closer. ‘Welcome, Officer Haught! Randy was telling me about you just this morning. Go straight through; he’s in his office.’

She gestures a little way behind herself to an office where the door is already standing open, gold lettering on the frosted glass – SHERIFF. Nicole moves to the end of the bench where the woman lifts the top and unlocks the gate below and she has to turn sideways to fit through with her groceries.

‘Oh, look at your little dog!’ the woman suddenly shouts and it takes both Nicole and Arlo by surprise. ‘Can I pet him?’

‘Of course, sure. In fact, could you watch him for a couple of minutes while I speak to the Sheriff?’

‘Absolutely! Come here, little doggy.’

‘Arlo.’ Nicole says uncertainly as she hands his leash over. There’s a couch out here too that she dumps her bags on. ‘Back in a second, buddy.’

She knocks even though the door is wide open and waits politely on the threshold. Sheriff Nedley is sat behind his desk with his head in his hands, a steaming mug in front of him as he pores over whatever piece of paper he’s reading.

‘Yeah?’ he asks without moving.

‘Sheriff Nedley? Nicole Haught, Sir.’

‘Haught!’ he says, leaping to his feet and coming around the desk towards her. ‘You made it.’

‘Yes, Sir. Arrived this morning. I just thought I should come in and…let you know how eager I am to get started.’

‘Yeah, right.’ he says on a snort, obviously unconvinced, and waves for her to take a seat.

He’s a thoroughly nice guy. Dad-like in his sense of humour and manner of doing things. Nicole liked him immediately during her interview and knows they’ll get along well once they get to know each other properly. He’s very complimentary about her achievements from the academy and in her few years with the Calgary Police Service, repeatedly insisting how lucky he is that she agreed to take the job in Purgatory in the first place.

They have a good talk about what she can expect, what her schedule will look like, what kinds of tasks she’ll be completing on a daily basis etc and it actually makes her excited to get to work after all. It sounds like a different pace compared with what she’s used to, working as a police officer in a big city, but she isn’t put off. She’s looking forward to making her mark and hopefully impressing Sheriff Nedley in the process. Her goal is to make Sheriff herself one day so the harder she works; she figures the more likely it’ll be.

They talk for twenty minutes or so before Nicole decides she should probably relieve the woman at the desk of Arlo-sitting.

‘Well, it’s been great to catch up again, Nicole.’ Nedley tells her, escorting her out into the bullpen.

‘Yes, Sir. And I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time without notice.’

‘Don’t worry about that. It’s been a slow day. If anything, you’ve saved me from trying to decipher another one of Lonnie’s illegible reports.’

‘This dog is the cutest thing in the whole world.’ the woman tells her seriously, cradling him on her knee and feeding him the leftovers of whatever was on her plate.

‘He yours?’ Nedley enquires, giving Arlo a quick pat on the head.

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Aw. Handsome boy for sure,’ he coos before turning to Nicole again. ‘I meant to say, a few of the officers and I’ll be at Shorty’s tonight if you’d like to join us? Consider it a welcome-to-the-town drink with your new colleagues.’

‘Oh,’ Nicole says, taken a little by surprise. ‘That’s super kind of you but I probably shouldn’t. Arlo gets a little antsy on his own and I don’t really want him to chew anything…the house is rented.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Nedley concedes before furrowing his brow. ‘Can I ask what you plan to do with him while you’re working twelve hour shifts here?’

And Nicole has no answer. How had she not considered that? She’d been so hellbent on not leaving him with Shae that she had given the logistics no thought beyond that. Oh, crap.

The panic must be evident on her face because Sheriff Nedley just rolls his eyes and takes a post-it from the top of the stack nearby, scrawling something across it with the pen from his top pocket.

‘Here. Facebook these guys or whatever you do these days. They live over on Second. They’re pet-sitters.’ he adds at the end when Nicole’s expression doesn’t change.

She reads the note - _Ambrose and Levi_ – and stows it safely in her coat pocket.

‘Thank you, Sir.’ she says timidly.

‘No problem. Well, we’ll see you on Monday…if not before.’

Later that evening, Nicole is sat in the middle of her enormous purple beanbag, laptop on her knee and a cup of tea in-hand. She’s on Facebook, doing exactly as Sheriff Nedley advised and looking up these mysterious Purgatory pet-sitters. They seem pretty legitimate, with a business page and a cutsie profile photo of two kind-looking guys, each holding a puppy to their chest.

With nothing to lose, she types out a quick message asking them for some more information and attaches a photo of Arlo looking particularly cute for good measure before hitting [Send].

She then mindlessly clicks around some of the other links that came up when she searched ‘Purgatory, Alberta’, finding a page dedicated to the bar on Main Street. She reads the first couple of posts at the top of the feed while she finishes her tea. They’re pretty eloquently written for what looks to be nothing more than a small-town dive bar and even finds herself chuckling at a few of the particularly light-hearted ones. They all seem to have hundreds of likes and comments. Popular place.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to turn down Sheriff Nedley’s drinks offer. What if he thinks she’s rude or anti-social or something? Probably not the best first impression to give her new boss...

She glances over to where Arlo is balled up beside her, exhausted by the events of the day. He certainly seems pretty settled. Maybe he’d be alright for an hour? There’s nothing he can really chew anyway.

Except carpet.

And door frames.

And the kitchen cabinets.

No. He’ll be fine. I’ll be an hour, tops.

Mind made up, she hauls herself out of the crater she’s made in the beanbag and heads towards the staircase. Arlo doesn’t even lift his head. He just sinks in a little more.

She goes into her bedroom, if you can call it that, and starts looking through the boxes to find an appropriate outfit to change into. She at least needs clean jeans and a hair brush.

She settles for a dark green button-down, blue jeans and a pair of sneakers then brushes her long red hair out in the bathroom mirror and fluffs it a little so it isn’t so flat. She applies a little make-up, a little perfume and grabs her brown corduroy jacket, practically skipping down the stairs again. It’s been a while since she went out-out and she’s weirdly looking forward to it despite knowing no-one.

She sticks her head into the living room and finds Arlo hasn’t even moved since she got up but she gives him a good tickle anyway and he rolls lazily onto his back at the attention. ‘I won’t be long, OK? I’ll leave the lights on for you.’

She gets absolutely no acknowledgement whatsoever from him - he’s a dog, after all – and she heads out into the night without another word.

She hadn’t heard it until she opened her front door but she can already hear the dull thud of live music coming up the street from the bar plus the sounds of drunken laughter.

The music gets louder and louder the closer she gets and the place is so crowded, it’s overspilling onto the sidewalk outside. Nicole pushes through a rowdy group of guys smoking in the doorway, ignoring them as they call her “baby” and ask for her phone number and marvels once she gets inside at just how many people can fit in such a tiny space. Is this a code violation?, she thinks. Probably.

It’s a typical roadhouse bar. Wood-panelled walls and ceilings with cowboy merchandise on every surface and a shabby, aged feel. There is indeed a live band playing on a makeshift stage at the back of the room under beating lights but Nicole pays them no real attention. Her mind is razor-focussed on finding Sheriff Nedley or even the woman from the front desk at the PSD. Just someone she recognises.

The whole place is singing along, almost chant-like, to the band. They’re like rock stars who have the crowd wrapped round their little fingers. Nicole knows the song and they’re actually doing a really good version of it. She’d sing along too if she was a couple of drinks deep and a little less crushed. She can tell it’s a girl singing but can’t really see much between bodies and raised arms as she gradually makes her way towards the bar, figuring it’s the best place to start.

She’s out of breath when she gets there, exhausted from fighting her way through but realises that Sheriff Nedley is actually right in front of her, perched on a bar stool yet still in his police uniform and accompanied by a blonde who is a lot younger than him. She tries to get his attention by saying his name but he doesn’t hear her over the music. She taps his shoulder instead.

‘Haught!’ he yells and she sees it more than she hears it.

He leans towards the man sitting on the stool to his other side and obviously asks him to move up one because there’s now a vacant stool for Nicole. She drops onto it without another thought and mouths her thanks to him, taking off her jacket as Sheriff Nedley pats her insistently on the knee.

‘This is my daughter, Chrissy.’ he shouts, pointing to the woman next to him and she waves enthusiastically.

Nicole returns it and then throws her hand across Nedley towards her too, all but screaming her name in introduction.

‘Nice to meet you!’ Chrissy mouths as she shakes it with a gigantic smile.

Nicole can’t see any bar staff so she waits patiently to order a drink, completely missing the fact that Chrissy and her father are swapping seats and she’s now sat directly beside her.

‘Welcome to Purgatory,’ she says loudly in Nicole’s ear. ‘My Dad won’t shut up about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name.’

‘Aw that’s sweet. Thank you.’ Nicole yells back.

‘Do you want a drink? Hold on,’ she adds without waiting for an answer. She then stands on the footrest of the stool, making her a foot or so taller than anyone else nearby, and waves her arms obnoxiously above her head towards someone Nicole can’t see. ‘She’s coming.’

Nicole can’t help but laugh at her method as Chrissy takes her seat again but her smile disappears, as does all the air in her lungs, when the barmaid finally comes over.

Long brown hair, slightly sun-kissed; a red and blue shirt exposing her mid-riff (printed with the word SHORTY’S) and eyes like crescent moons from the smile she’s got fixed on Nicole.

‘Nicole, this is Waverly,’ Chrissy yells. ‘Waves, this is Nicole. She’s my Dad’s new deputy.’

‘Oh! Hey!’

Stop staring, Nicole instructs herself. It’s something about the smile. It’s like, radiant. Oh, my god, shut up.

‘Hey. Sorry, hey! Nice to meet you.’ Nicole offers her hand again, this time to Waverly who’s leaning across the bar to hear her. She takes it but gives it more of a squeeze than a shake.

‘You too. Can I get you a drink?’

‘Yeah, could I get a beer please.’

‘Sure. Any preference?’

Waverly has a calmness about her. Even though the place is packed and she’s probably rushed off her feet, she doesn’t speak like she’s in a hurry. She’s totally in control. Experienced.

‘Whatever you’d recommend.’ Nicole tells her and Waverly hits her with that smile again before disappearing to get it.

Nicole can’t help but watch her go. She’s wearing high-top sneakers and tight (so very tight) denim shorts. It’s kind of an occupational hazard, she assumes, to be objectified when you’re a barmaid but Waverly is exceptionally attractive and it’s been a long time since Nicole has let herself think that about anyone. While she feels guilty for staring so openly, she’s also kind of proud of herself. Has she just hit closure on her embarrassing attempt at marriage? Perhaps…

‘So, Nicole,’ Chrissy starts, playing with a chewed straw. ‘What do you think of Purgatory so far?’

‘Well, I’ve only been here a few hours. Although I have already been cursed at…’

‘What? By who?’

At that exact moment, there’s a small gap in the crowd and the band are fully visible to Nicole for the first time. ‘Her.’ she says simply, gesturing to the woman behind the mic with a bass guitar slung around her shoulders.

It’s definitely her. Front and centre on the stage, with fairy lights wrapped around her mic stand. To her left, the lead guitarist’s hat is shadowing most of his face but she can see he has a spectacular moustache going on under there and behind them, to Nicole’s surprise, is the douchecanoe from earlier – Xavier – on the drums.

Chrissy follows her eyeline. ‘Wynonna?’

‘If you say so,’ she shrugs. ‘We didn’t really get to introducing ourselves.’

‘Uh-oh. What happened?’

Nicole recounts her disastrous meeting with the woman named Wynonna at a yell so that Chrissy can hear her properly. She gasps and grimaces in all the right places and Nicole thinks she makes a pretty good audience for a story.

‘She was a total asshole. Like, to a degree I didn’t even know existed,’ Nicole says to finish just as Waverly returns with a large glass of beer for her. ‘Oh, thank you.’

‘Who is?’ she asks curiously, clearly wanting to be involved in the conversation. Nicole just juts her head at the band, lips already around the rim of her glass. She completely misses Chrissy’s uncertain glance but she can definitely tell that the atmosphere has changed in the time it’s taken to have one sip.

She looks between the two. Chrissy seems like she just wants to laugh…but Waverly has an unreadable expression on her face and Nicole lowers her glass slowly. ‘What?’

Then the band finish their current song and there’s a brief quiet while they gear up for the next one. As the guitar suddenly kicks in again, the word ‘Waves!’ is yelled through the mic. It’s Wynonna and she’s gesturing wildly to…Waverly? ‘Let’s go!’

For some reason, the bar seems to go even more bananas and Waverly backs away from Nicole and Chrissy, still with that weird look on her face that Nicole can’t decipher. Then she’s untying her apron from around her waist, dropping it onto the bar by an older guy, who she pats on the shoulder, then disappearing into the crowd.

She cuts through easily, like they’re parting for her, and is helped up onto the stage by a guy at the front of the throng. She gets there just in time for the opening lyric and pretty much tears the roof off the place from the very first word.

_‘I’m like a locomotive. I don’t run out of steam. I’m headed towards the reservoir and I’m gonna need a drink...’_

Nicole’s eyeballs just about fall out of her head. She knows her mouth is hanging open too but she can’t seem to get her brain to close it.

_‘I ain’t no Napa Valley. New York City seems OK. I’m a little bit more Tennessee and there’s whiskey in my veins.’_

The whole place is on its feet, bouncing up and down so heavily that the floorboards under Nicole’s stool are pulsing. She knows this song too and Waverly’s voice is perfectly suited to it, if a little clean cut. It’s rocked-up country at its finest and exactly the kind of music that should be performed in a bar like this.

_‘…I been down on my luck, but I ain’t givin’ up. Well, I totalled his truck but he loves me just the same…’_

The crowd is electrified now but there’s a group of guys at the front getting particularly loud. Nicole glances over just as one of them wolf-whistles but Waverly seems too into her song to care…or she just flat-out ignores him; Nicole isn’t sure.

Weirdly, Eliza is stood amongst the group too, looking distinctly out of place as the only woman and swaying side to side with a glass of wine in her hand.

‘Yeah, so-’ Chrissy starts, shuffling close enough to Nicole’s ear that she doesn’t have to yell. ‘Wynonna is Waverly’s sister.’

Nicole closes her eyes as Chrissy’s words hit her like a punch to the jaw. Chrissy, clearly amused by this whole situation, just pats her sympathetically on the leg before turning back to enjoy the rest of her friend’s performance. When Nicole does eventually open her eyes, she looks again at Waverly. She definitely doesn’t have an unreadable expression now. She’s happy. She’s enjoying herself. She’s commanding the whole damn room with an undeniable sexiness that comes with confidence. She’s good at this and she knows it.

And if the way she playfully interacts with Wynonna on stage is anything to go by, they’re not just sisters. They’re _close_ sisters and Nicole is mortified.

The song, which seemed to go on forever while Nicole debated whether or not she should just leave, finally comes to an end with an upsurge from the crowd that Nicole can physically feel as well as hear. Wynonna encourages them to cheer even louder as Waverly bows a couple of times and shyly hops down onto the floor again.

She’s trying to get back to the bar, back to work, but is stopped by pretty much everyone on the way to compliment her on her performance. It’s praise that clearly embarrasses and galvanises her in equal measure. The wolf-whistler, a greasy-haired fuckboy who’s covered in tattoos, also tries to get a word with her but she rejects him, pulling her arm from his tight, slimy grip. The sight makes the hairs on Nicole’s neck stand up and her cop-senses tingle.

‘Yeah, thanks for giving Waverly the night off, Shorty.’ comes moustache-man’s voice through the mic and the older guy behind the bar, Shorty presumably, shrugs innocently.

‘Look at this place!’ he shouts back. ‘I need all the help I can get on Fridays.’

‘Ah, so you require us to be _less_ popular. I understand.’

The whole place chuckles politely at the exchange as the band burst into the next song. Judging by the crowd’s response, it’s a fan favourite and moustache-man is taking over lead vocals.

_‘I’m a puzzle. I’m a walkin’ contradiction in far from mint condition coz there’s pieces I can’t find…’_

Waverly, finally escaping her fan club, comes around the bar and puts her apron back on like she hasn’t just done the single most amazing thing Nicole has ever seen. Her expression is stony again however, almost like she’s daring Nicole to say something.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ is all she says and Nicole can’t even form words…but her mouth moves like she wants to.

‘Could I get another red wine please, Waves?’ comes Chrissy’s tentative voice and Nicole had almost forgotten she was there.

Waverly’s eyes flick to her for the briefest of seconds before coming back to Nicole’s. ‘Yeah. Sure thing.’

And then she’s gone.

Arlo has been alone for approximately three and a half hours. Nicole tries not to let the thought consume her because she knows she can’t leave until she’s spoken to Waverly and apologised. However, she is half-concerned about what kind of mess she’s going to walk into when she does finally get home.

She’s still sat at the bar, twirling an empty glass around in her hand and watching the last drops circle the bottom. The lights are on and the place is basically empty with only the band, Waverly, Nicole and Eliza – who has somehow ended up at the bar as well – remaining. Nicole assumes she’s waiting for Xavier to finish packing away his equipment so they can head home together.

Waverly is at the other side of the room, wiping down tables and putting chairs up on top. She hasn’t come back to the bar or into Nicole’s general vicinity for at least an hour, seemingly doing any task she can find that keeps her firmly elsewhere. But still Nicole waits, determined to make things right. She doesn’t want Waverly to think badly of her for one ill-informed comment, especially when they’ve only just met.

‘Well, ladies,’ moustache-man says, clicking his guitar case closed and adjusting the hat on his head a little, totally ignoring the fact that Xavier is present too. ‘I will bid you all a good night.’

‘Night, Doc.’ Wynonna tells him with a small smile but he appears not to hear her, making a beeline for Waverly instead.

He puts his arm around her shoulders and presses a sweet kiss to her temple before telling her ‘Pitch perfect tonight, as usual. Goodnight, Waverly.’

She beams at the comment and leans a little further into his embrace in response. ‘Aww thanks, Doc. Night.’

Nicole watches them in the mirrored surface behind the bar. It doesn’t seem like a romantic exchange. More familial. If anything, it’s cute. She’d love to be able to tell Waverly how amazing she was tonight if just to get that smile in response. The man, “Doc” evidently, tips his hat on his way out and Eliza waves but Nicole just turns her attention back to her empty glass.

‘Alright,’ Eliza starts, swinging herself around the long way to face Nicole. ‘Seeing as your dog isn’t here. Tell me about yourself, newbie.’

Nicole snorts.

‘Come on. Waiting in silence is boring. I promise I’ll start easy.’

She shimmies her shoulders like it’s an offer Nicole couldn’t possibly refuse. She may have had a few drinks tonight because she’s a lot more forthright than she was this afternoon.

‘How about…why _the fuck_ have you chosen to move to Purgatory of all places?’

The question makes Nicole smirk but she supposes she has to provide some kind of answer.

‘It was sort of deliberately, sort of by accident.’

Eliza scowls at the ambiguity.

‘Work.’ Nicole clarifies on a laugh. ‘I’m a police officer.’

‘Oh, for the PSD?’ Eliza asks, genuinely interested…and almost offensively surprised.

‘Mmhmm. Well, as of Monday.’

‘Wow. That’s actually pretty cool,’ She flaps her arm towards the stage. ‘X is a cop with the PSD too.’

Nicole isn’t sure why but that catches her attention. ‘Really?’ she asks, watching Xavier whisper into Wynonna’s ear while wrapping a cable into a loop. Wynonna then laughs which confuses Nicole even more. She can’t really imagine this guy cracking a joke. ‘Interesting.’

They talk a little about Eliza too (an interior designer from Vancouver who practices about six different types of martial arts because they “relax” her. Nicole thinks she’s a stone-cold psycho but laughs along with her tipsy anecdotes anyway.) It’s a few minutes later when Xavier eventually approaches them, looking down at his phone with a frown.

‘ _Finally_. Ready to go?’ Eliza asks him, wrapping her hands around his arm to help herself stand up.

‘Actually no. I’ve been called in,’ he says, holding his phone up like it proves something. ‘Something big’s happened.’

‘Ugh, again?’

‘Sorry,’ he says, not sounding sorry at all as far as Nicole is concerned. ‘I should be home in the morning. You OK getting back?’

‘Guess I’ll have to be.’ Eliza says but softens almost immediately. ‘Go save the day; it’s fine. Actually, speaking of which-’

Nicole turns slightly in her seat, knowing she’s about to be referred to.

‘Did you know she’s a cop too?’

‘…No. No, I did not,’ is all he says before speaking to Eliza again like Nicole isn’t even there. ‘I should get going.’

He kisses her on the cheek and she pats his broad chest with an encouraging ‘Go get ’em.’

He’s an asshole. Nicole can’t figure out why she thinks that but she gets a definite and strong asshole vibe, she’s decided. Ditching his fiancée when she’s waited over an hour for him – _such_ an asshole move. She doesn’t say it out loud though. She’s learning her lesson in that regard. She just gives Eliza a tight smile that she hopes passes for sympathetic.

‘This’ll be you by next week,’ Eliza tells her, draining what’s left in her glass. ‘He’s always getting called in, staying late, working weekends. Comes with the job I guess.’

‘Hmm. Yeah.’

Nicole doesn’t know what to say beyond that. She watches Eliza swing her coat around her shoulders and stand up to leave for the second time.

‘Anyway, no point in hanging around now I guess. Later!’

‘See ya. You sure you’re OK getting home?’

‘Honey, we live two blocks away,’ she says as if she hasn’t just explained to Nicole that crime in Purgatory is allegedly rampant. ‘I’ll be peachy.’

She’s genuinely considering just getting up and walking Eliza home anyway when suddenly Waverly is gloriously, _finally_ standing right in front of her. It makes pretty much every other thought disappear in a puff of smoke.

‘Are you moving in or something?’

‘Uh,’ Nicole nervously re-adjusts herself on her stool and realises that Wynonna also appears to have gone, leaving just her and Waverly alone in the bar. ‘No?’

Waverly tilts her head to the side, unimpressed by the answer and clearly waiting for another.

‘I wanted to see you…I mean, talk to you…before I went home.’

‘Why?’

‘B-Because you’re mad at me.’

‘I’m not mad at you. I don’t even know you.’

‘No. You’re right, you don’t. But also…you _are_ mad at me.’

Waverly, almost in spite of herself, tosses the rag she’s holding onto the surface of the bar and folds her arms across her chest. An irritable gesture Nicole assumes means _proceed_.

‘I won’t make excuses. I shouldn’t have called your sister an asshole. I mean, I didn’t know she was your sister obviously but…I also don’t know her and, to be fair to her, I had just smashed around a hundred dollars-worth of liquor all over the floor. But apparently, she hadn’t even paid for it so,’

‘Nicole.’ Waverly warns.

‘Right. Basically, I’m really sorry. I’m new here and I don’t know what I’m doing or who anyone is and I’m…overwhelmed. I let her get to me and I shouldn’t have. Even though she did tell me to go fuck myself at least twice.’

Waverly snorts, momentarily forgetting she’s supposed to be angry.

‘But I’d like it to be known that I’m not a horrible person. I don’t go around calling people assholes and bitching about them to strangers in bars. I’ve had a crappy couple of months and to be honest, I’m not really myself right now. I know you have no reason to believe me but I’m nice. I swear, I’m nice and I really, really don’t want you to hate me. Hell, I don’t even want your sister to hate me. So, please, can we just start over?’

Waverly waits a second, absorbing Nicole’s little speech and the word “hate” seems to get to her. She gives Nicole a once over and her shoulders suddenly relax.

‘OK, fine.’

‘OK, fine?’ Nicole asks, unsure.

‘Apology accepted.’

‘Wh-really?’

‘Yeah. I love her to death but to be honest, Wynonna _can_ be kind of an asshole so yeah. Apology accepted.’

Nicole is floored by how gracious she is being and she heaves a literal sigh of relief that makes Waverly smile and then giggle.

‘People always build apologies up to be so much harder than they actually are.’ she says with a shake of her head, taking the rag into her hands again.

‘Well, then thank you for being kind enough to accept mine.’ Nicole replies, finally getting to her feet. ‘I should get going. Let you finish up.’

Waverly watches her carefully as she slides her jacket on and flicks her hair out of the collar. She’s biting her bottom lip like she wants to say something…but she doesn’t.

‘Are you gonna be OK here, by yourself?’ Nicole asks, casting her eyes around the empty room.

‘It is not my first rodeo.’

‘Of course it’s not. Sorry. That was probably a little-,’ Nicole has no idea what that was so she just follows herself up with another ‘sorry.’

‘That’s OK. It’s sweet of you to ask. Probably a cop thing, right?’

‘Yeah…maybe.’

She tucks her stool under the bar as Waverly says ‘I’ll only be ten more minutes anyway. It’s just the bar, the lights and the shutters left to do.’ and Nicole thinks of Arlo at home again.

The words ‘Do you want any help?’ fall from her mouth anyway.

‘Oh! No that’s OK.’

‘Sure? We can probably make that ten minutes into five if we split what’s left?’

‘Well, I mean, if you want to-?’

When Nicole checks her watch, it’s almost 1am.

She’s standing outside the bar, keeping Waverly company as she closes metal shutters down over the front windows. It’s cold tonight and she bounces a little on the balls of her feet in a fruitless effort to stay warm. Or maybe it’s impatience…because she really is starting to worry about Arlo.

‘Have you worked here long?’ she asks as Waverly finishes up.

‘Oh. Like, since I was sixteen.’

‘Is that legal?’

‘Sorry. Forgot I was talking to an Officer of the Law.’ Waverly says with a smirk. ‘Shorty’s a family friend. He helped me out when I needed a little extra for college.’

‘That’s nice.’ says Nicole as Waverly turns to her.

‘Yeah.’

There’s a long gap and Waverly is clearly struggling with what to say next so she plumps for ‘Anyway. Thanks for helping me.’

‘That’s alright. My pleasure. Guess I’ll see you around?’

‘Probably.’

Waverly smiles and her eyes crinkle up again. It makes Nicole sigh.

Then they both move to walk away only to find that they’re heading in the same direction and it makes Waverly laugh.

‘You’re this way too, eh?’

‘Buffalo, yeah.’

‘Buffalo.’ she says, to herself more than Nicole. ‘Of course.’

The short walk is mainly silent but slow, despite the temperature and the time of night. Nicole wants to ask Waverly more about herself but is worried there isn’t enough time right now to really get into it so she settles for a succinct ‘You were incredible tonight.’ instead.

‘You think so?’

‘The band too. Really good.’

‘Thanks. We try.’

‘What are you guys called?’ Nicole asks, eager to keep the conversation going a little longer now that it’s started.

‘Well, officially we’re _The Peacemakers_ but hardly anyone calls us that. We’re just “Waverly’s band” or “Wynonna’s band” or “Dolls’ band”…’

‘Dolls?’

‘Our drummer,’ Waverly explains. ‘It’s his last name.’

Nicole moves to walk over a patch of grass, avoiding a frozen puddle and comes back slightly closer to Waverly than she was before. ‘What’s your last name?’

‘Why? You gonna stalk me on Facebook?’

‘No. I’m gonna run a background check on that sister of yours when I get clearance at the PSD.’

It makes Waverly laugh and then Nicole by extension.

‘Earp.’

‘Earp.’ Nicole parrots back thoughtfully. Waverly Earp. She likes that.

‘And you?’

‘OK but don’t laugh.’

‘Why would I-?’

‘…Nicole Haught.’

Waverly’s slow pace falters ever so slightly and her shoulder grazes Nicole’s.

‘As in…?’

‘No.’ Nicole adds quickly, holding a stern finger up. ‘H-A-U-G-H-T.’

‘Got it.’ Waverly says, clearly trying not to laugh. ‘And there was me about to make a joke.’

Nicole would probably pay her a million dollars right now to say out loud what she’s thinking; for some kind of confirmation that maybe, just maybe, she might find Nicole attractive too. But she doesn’t. She’s just smiling down at her own feet.

‘You said you wouldn’t laugh.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

Nicole realises then that they’ve reached the gate outside her new house and she slows to a stop, momentarily confusing Waverly. ‘So, this is me.’

‘…This is Mattie’s old house.’

‘Who’s Mattie?’

‘Just one of the townsfolk. Died of breast cancer a couple of years ago and the place has been empty ever since.’

Nicole casts an unsure glance over her house again and Waverly watches her with a grin.

‘Don’t worry. She didn’t die _in_ the house.’

‘Hmm. So, where’s home for you?’ Nicole asks when Waverly eventually stops giggling.

‘We live on the outskirts of town but there’s a shortcut through the hedge up here. Otherwise, I’d have to walk all the way around.’

She points to a dark corner at the top of the street, beyond which is a large open prairie and a dirt track. It makes Nicole nervous, the idea of her walking the rest of the way alone.

‘You sure you’re-’

‘I’ll be fine, Officer Haught.’ Waverly says with an eyeroll.

They’ve just about exhausted conversation for tonight, Nicole can tell. She should let her go…but still they stand there, shyly watching each other and chuckling when they’re caught.

‘I should head home…’

‘Yeah, I should go inside too. Uh, how long does it take you? From here I mean.’

‘Like, five minutes. Not long at all.’

‘OK. OK, good.’

Waverly smirks at Nicole’s obvious concern and turns around with another roll of her eyes. ‘Goodnight, Nicole.’

‘Night, Waverly.’

And despite how late it is, despite how cold and despite knowing Arlo may have wrecked the entire house behind her, Nicole still stands and watches as Waverly walks away. She watches until her coat disappears through the hedge and is a little disappointed that she doesn’t look back. Not even once.

Waverly, on the other hand, is desperate to turn around. But she doesn’t. She won’t give Nicole that satisfaction. Not just yet. Especially when she _knows_ Nicole is watching her.

Nicole enters the house with her hand over her eyes and slowly parts her fingers to soften the blow of whatever she’s convinced she’ll find. But she’s amazed. It looks exactly how she left it. The lights are still on in the hallway and the living room but there are no signs of any kind of damage. Not even a pee-puddle. Nothing.

She looks around for Arlo and finds him, his tiny blond body, still balled up on the beanbag in the living room all snuggled up with Calamity Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SONGS from this chapter (either mentioned explicitly or inferred with their lyrics):  
> "Locomotive" by Miranda Lambert  
> "What You See Is What You Get" by Luke Combs


	2. To Learn Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Purgatory is what you make it.'

Nicole wakes up on Saturday morning feeling more tired than she did when she went to sleep. Her new house is full of unfamiliar sounds and shapes in the darkness and she found it difficult to settle her mind enough to get any proper rest. Arlo’s constant wriggling also hadn’t helped.

She’d taken him upstairs to sleep with her, guilty after having left him alone so long last night, but wholly regretted it somewhere between 3am and the second kick to the face. She couldn’t really say she’d been asleep though. She’d basically spent the night staring at the ceiling, watching the occasional lights from passing cars on the strange street outside and the sun slowly rising on her first full day in Purgatory.

She must have fallen asleep at some point however because she’s dazed and confused when her phone’s usual 8am alarm sounds somewhere on the floor to her left. She silences it and flops heavily onto her back before realising that Arlo isn’t beside her.

He’s lying across the room in a square patch of sunlight but gets excitedly to his feet when he realises she’s awake. He then mugs her for kisses and cuddles, the mattress on the floor providing him easy access to her face while Nicole pretends to hate it.

When she’s finally able to escape long enough to stand up, she stretches her arms and back out while taking in the view from the window. The sun is low in the pink and orange sky and the sidewalks and roads are glistening with fresh frost. There are several houses directly opposite, Main Street in the distance to the left and the stubbled prairie on the other side of a winter-bare hedge to the right. Nicole can see the dirt track, the end of which disappears over a ridge, that Waverly presumably used last night and Nicole wonders how far away her house is. Is it just out of sight? Or is it miles out and Waverly was just pacifying her by telling her home was only a few minutes away?

She jumps when Arlo yelps behind her, scratching at the closed door and begging to go downstairs to use the back yard.

‘OK, OK. Let’s go.’ she tells him, the door barely open an inch before he’s squeezing his way out and flinging himself down the stairs like he’s lived here for years.

Calamity Jane is keeping herself to herself on the sill of an upstairs window and Nicole wishes her a good morning as she descends after Arlo. The cat just turns her face away in response. Not forgiven yet, apparently.

Her day is a boring one, all things considered. She wants to establish what may become their morning routine by making Arlo and Calamity their breakfasts before setting to work on her own. She tries to sweep around the kitchen as contentedly as she can, chatting to them as she goes, just in case they can somehow pick up on how uncomfortable she is about moving around a house that doesn’t feel like theirs.

She then spends the rest of the day either playing her guitars, watching Netflix, playing with Arlo or tinkering under the hood of the Bronco. She only manages to spend thirty minutes on the car in the end because the stupid West-facing driveway is in shadow most of the morning, meaning her hands are frozen and useless in a frustratingly short amount of time.

After an uninspiring lunch of potato chips and carrot sticks, she realises she’s had a response from Ambrose - who evidently prefers to be called “Fish” – about setting up a pet-sitting arrangement with Arlo. He tells her that they’d love to but, just to be sure, could they meet up in the park tomorrow to discuss it properly and meet the dog in person. Nicole replies immediately that that sounds like a good idea and they settle for 2pm by the pond.

That evening, Nicole finds herself at the living room window this time, staring out at the dark street and half-wondering whether or not she should go to Shorty’s again tonight…if just for something to do. She eventually decides against it but visits the bar’s Facebook page again anyway, reading posts that go back months now that she knows they were most likely written by Waverly Earp. She notices names in the comments section that she recognises now too but doesn’t click onto their individual profiles. For some reason, it feels too soon for that. It’s very tempting, however, when she finds a comment from Waverly herself but she just closes her laptop instead.

On Sunday, Nicole and Arlo arrive early at the park. She sits down on a cold bench and gets him to sit obediently between her feet as they watch a group of high schoolers play ice hockey on the frozen pond. It’s a crude set-up and the goal (marked by the players’ discarded jackets) is about three times wider than it should be but Nicole finds herself getting invested in it anyway. She claps loudly when a dark-haired girl smashes the puck straight between the guy in goals legs and it shoots up the bank behind him. The girl smiles up at her as Nicole whistles her fingers supportively.

Then a voice to her left says ‘Nicole?’ and she jumps.

‘Yeah?’

‘Hi. Ambrose Fish,’ he says, pointing to his own chest and then to a smaller guy beside him. ‘…and this is my partner, Levi.’

Nicole isn’t one hundred percent clear on what kind of partner Levi is but her gaydar is definitely twitching a little based on their general body language. She jumps to her feet, dislodging Arlo, and shakes both of their hands politely.

‘Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming.’

‘Our pleasure. Ah, this must be the man himself,’ says Fish as Arlo jumps up at him, bouncing up and down on his back legs. ‘Hey, Arlo!’

Both men fuss over the dog to the point where Nicole starts to feel like a spare part but she supposes this is a good reaction if she’s going to leave him alone with them regularly. She happily waits her turn, watching Arlo as he rolls around in the snow for them.

‘Sorry. We love all pets but dogs are definitely our favourite.’ Levi offers by way of explanation.

‘Oh, don’t worry about it. I dunno what it is but he always gets this reaction.’

‘He’s adorable, that’s why.’ Fish says in a baby-voice, down on his knees and happily allowing Arlo to lick every inch of his face. Nicole just watches with a smile.

They sit for an hour and by the time they part ways again, Nicole is frozen and sick to death of talking about herself. She’s converted though – she couldn’t imagine anyone better to look after her dog. They agree to watch him most of this week while she does her introductory day shifts at the PSD, happy to adapt to a more permanent routine once she’s assigned her official shift schedule. It’s a big thing struck from her to-do list and it relaxes her knowing that Arlo will be taken care of here at least.

She’s ready for a change of scenery when Monday finally arrives.

She drops Arlo off at a beautiful house on Second Street, where Fish and Levi live together (mystery solved), before taking her car back home and walking down the street to the PSD building.

It’s her first time in the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department uniform and she finds she likes it better than the one she used to wear in Calgary. The pants are a dark navy with lots of pockets and her shirt is light blue and a nice fit for her figure. It makes her look tough and put-together, she thinks. Her long red hair is painstakingly neat in a French-braid that took her an hour and her feet are clad in sand-coloured military boots. It’s a practical look. Exactly what she was aiming for. Like she’s ready to get to work.

Her first few shifts are purely introductory. She sits through several training courses, reads lots of files and folders on current open cases, is shown all over the PSD building and Sheriff Nedley even goes over a rudimentary map of the entire Ghost River Triangle with her so she has a basic understanding of the local geography. She’s then assigned to a guy called Lonnie who she’ll shadow for a week or so while she gets the hang of things.

Occasionally, she’ll pass Xavier Dolls in the hallways or in the break room but he never really acknowledges her presence. She’s even tried to engage him in a conversation about his band but he never yields, always making quick work of leaving the room pretty much as soon as she enters it.

_What a douche._

By Thursday, her excitement at being back at work is already starting to wane. She’s yet to come across any interesting open case files and if she has to sit through one more briefing about some guy called Bill Livencott being caught driving without a licence…again…she was going to scream.

Isn’t the PSD supposed to be overrun with demands on its officer’s time? If Xavier Dolls is expected to stay late almost every shift, yet she and her colleagues always seem to be able to get out early to hit Shorty’s (Nicole hasn’t joined them yet, always opting to go pick Arlo up instead), what was he doing that they weren’t? What did he know that they didn’t? Was he just hoarding the good cases? Nicole had no idea.

‘What are you talking about?’ Lonnie huffs, removing the lid from his take-out coffee cup to add an unnecessary amount of Sweet & Low.

They were mid-way through a foot patrol around town at Nicole’s request, having begged him to spend the day doing _anything_ that wasn’t paperwork and training courses. He’s being served by a street vendor selling coffee from an old-timey little cart and Nicole is trying to decide whether or not those are snow-clouds above them while she waits for him.

‘This town is not _boring_!’ he presses, utterly offended by the insinuation. A proud Purgatorian, apparently.

‘OK. But also, it kind of is.’

‘No way. It’s just…chilled. Calm. Relaxed.’

He takes a careful sip from his cup before passing a bill over to the lady behind the cart and gesturing for Nicole to follow him up the street.

‘That’s the point,’ she says, exasperated. ‘I was expecting-’

‘What?’

She thinks the question over. What was she expecting from this place?

‘More.’

‘Listen. Purgatory can be crazy. Like, fucked-up-shit-crazy.’

Nicole raises a sceptical eyebrow.

‘I’m serious. Disgusting shit does happen here. Gory shit. _Grisly_ shit. Just not every week. Gotta be patient, rookie.’

‘I’m not a rookie.’ she states without missing a beat but Lonnie waves a superior finger at her.

‘You are in Purgatory-years. Now, stop wishing horror on my town and enjoy the peace, man. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll find someone’s parking has expired.’

‘Whoopdi-friggin’-do.’

Lonnie almost burns his mouth in his desperation to chastise her. ‘Y’know, you’re kind of a Debbie-downer. A place like Purgatory is what you make it.’

‘Who’s a Debbie-downer?’ asks a voice from behind them and Nicole spins around.

‘Chrissy! Yes, thank God. Please! Help me convince Officer Haught here that Purgatory is _not_ boring.’

Chrissy slaps his hand away like a sister would an annoying little brother when he tries to pull her closer and says ‘Absolutely not. This place is mind-numbing, Lonnie. She can just see in one week what you’ve missed your entire life.’

‘Sacrilege!’ he yells dramatically and it makes Chrissy cover her eyes in embarrassment.

‘OK. Tone it down, town-tourism.’

Nicole laughs at their exchange while Lonnie just shakes his head over and over again. He only stops when he realises he can’t drink his coffee like this.

‘So you’re not enjoying mountain life, eh?’

‘Mountain life is fine. It’s just a little…slower…than I’d imagined.’

‘Well,’ Chrissy starts, casting her eyes around as if looking for inspiration. ‘This place is a drag but there _is_ stuff going on. What are you into?’

‘I dunno.’

‘Come on. Like, what are your interests? Hobbies?’

Nicole thinks hard. What even is she into these days? ‘I dunno. Music, I guess.’

‘Music. OK.’ Chrissy rubs her hands together while she mulls it over. ‘Well, that’s an easy one. If you’d said hardcore crochet, that might’ve been a little harder. But if it’s _live_ music you’re into, then Shorty’s is the obvious choice. Waverly always has something happening.’

Nicole’s brain kicks in a split second after her head snaps up at the word “Waverly” and she’s acutely aware of how obvious that was. Chrissy clearly thinks so too, if her sudden knowing smirk is any indication.

‘It’s Open Mic Night tonight, for example.’ Lonnie helpfully supplies, missing it entirely.

‘Oh yeah! You should come!’

‘Open Mic?’

‘Yeah. I mean, it’s always the same old people but Purgatory is actually a pretty talented place. Like Nashville.’ Chrissy adds thoughtfully and Nicole snorts.

There’s a long pause while she thinks it over and Chrissy bounces slightly on her feet in what she thinks is anticipation.

‘Waverly usually performs.’ she says like she’s trying to be sneaky and gets exactly the reaction she thought she’d get – Nicole’s eyes flicking to hers at the mere mention of Waverly’s name – Nicole quickly decides to distract her with a question that catches her completely off guard.

‘Can anyone play?’

‘Play? Ohmigod, do _you_ play?’

‘I play…a little.’

‘Holy shit. You’ve been holding out on us?! Go! Go now!’

‘Go where?’

‘To sign-up. At Shorty’s. Waverly has the roster. GO!’

‘Chrissy, I’m working.’ Nicole reminds her, bemused by her excitement.

‘Um. I think I can handle it.’ Lonnie says sarcastically, gesturing broadly at the nothing currently happening around them.

‘Go!’ Chrissy is still shouting, pushing Nicole back in the direction they’ve just come. ‘She’ll be there now. Go get a slot!’

Nicole hesitates for a second and is shoved again.

‘Go!’ Chrissy and Lonnie yell together and she feels like she has no choice but to turn around and head back towards Main Street.

The front doors to Shorty’s are closed but unlocked when she tries them. She figures the place won’t be open to the public yet but someone must be here. Who’s she kidding? She knows who’s here. So she slips inside the first set of double doors and takes a deep breath to steady her nerves before going through the second.

An old jukebox in the corner is playing some kind of country-pop music but the place is deserted otherwise and all the tables still have their chairs and stools on top. Nicole finds herself creeping a little, like she’s doing something wrong by being here, and has to consciously stop herself from using her tiptoes.

She’s about to pad down the couple of steps from the entrance when a door at the back of the room bursts open and Waverly, carrying a wooden crate full of tinkling glass bottles, appears. She’s singing along to the song on the jukebox at the top of her lungs, seemingly totally unaware that she’s no longer alone.

She’s wearing her red and blue SHORTY’S shirt again but is wearing skinny jeans today with tan ankle boots. Her hair is in a pretty half-up/half-down style and slightly wavy.

Nicole smiles but then feels instantly uncomfortable; she doesn’t know if she should clear her throat or something. Maybe she should just turn around and sneak away again? Either way, she doesn’t want to embarrass Waverly or worse, have her think she was just stood here watching her. She’s turning her dilemma over in her head when Waverly suddenly stops singing and gasps.

‘ _Jee-zus_.’ she says, clutching her chest and Nicole’s hands shoot up innocently.

‘I’m so sorry. I’ve only been here a second.’

‘No. No, it’s fine. I just didn’t see you.’

Nicole grimaces apologetically and Waverly beckons her forwards, into the light of the bar, once she’s composed herself.

‘I’m sorry. Your door was open...’ Nicole says by way of explanation but finds herself feeling warm around the collar as she watches Waverly scan her from her feet all the way to the top of her head. It confuses her for a hot second before she remembers she’s in her police uniform. Interesting…

‘No, that’s,’ she starts and has to physically shake her head to clear it. ‘I’ve just taken a delivery in.’

‘Ah.’ is all Nicole can think to say and she sits herself down on a bar stool. Weirdly, the same one she was sitting in on Friday night.

‘Haven’t seen you in a few days…?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Nicole agrees before gesturing down towards her own clothing. ‘Y’know. Work.’

Waverly hums and her eyes sink to Nicole’s perfectly pressed police shirt again. Her interest (if we can call it that?) bolsters her confidence a little and she leans forward on her elbows.

‘I actually have something to ask you.’

Green eyes pop back up in surprise and she starts to empty the bottles from the crate out onto the bar-top. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. It’s about…Open Mic Night.’

The silence that follows feels like it last three weeks and Nicole’s newfound self-assurance disappears like a popped bubble.

‘Oh.’ is all Waverly says at first. ‘That is _not_ what I thought you were going to say.’

‘What did you think I was going to say?’

‘I don’t know. Just not that.’

‘I was wondering if you still have any slots available. For tonight. Chrissy said…’

‘Oh.’ Waverly says again. ‘ _Oh!?_ ’

She hurries off to the other side of the bar for a second and returns with a clipboard, flipping a couple of pages and taking the lid off a pen with her teeth.

‘It’s pretty full…’ she says thickly around the pen top, her eyes scanning the page carefully. Nicole is about to tell her not to worry about it when she adds ‘…but we have a small slot around 9ish?’

She looks up expectantly, seeking any kind of confirmation that this might be suitable for whatever secret talent Nicole has apparently been hiding. Nicole however is only partly-sure she even wants to do this at all, let alone tonight but she nods anyway. ‘I’ll take it.’

She stands up from her stool and walks backwards towards the door again, fidgeting with the volume dial on her radio for something to channel her suddenly nervous energy into. ‘Anyway…I should get back to work. Thanks, Waverly.’

‘Wait,’ she says in disbelief, still holding the clipboard up. ‘That’s it?’

‘What?’

‘That’s all you’re giving me? No information at all?’

Her indignation makes Nicole laugh.

‘What kind of act are you even doing? she continues sarcastically. ‘You a ventriloquist? You a mime?’

Steeling her nerve and feeling bold again, Nicole does nothing but wiggle her eyebrows and then leaves the bar just as Waverly’s mouth falls open.

***

The evening is a bit of a rush. After all her complaints about regularly finishing work early, Nicole ends up getting stuck there twenty minutes longer than she’s supposed to be and is left with no time to get changed before she has to head to Shorty’s.

Arlo is still with Fish and Levi so she just has to jog home, pick a guitar to use (she chooses a beautiful Gretsch acoustic that probably cost more than her rent) and go straight to the bar, still in uniform.

When she arrives, she’s struck by how much calmer the place is tonight than it was on Friday with nowhere near as many people sardined inside. While every table is occupied, the floor space in between is open and it’s easy for Nicole to get in the door with her bulky guitar case. Her eyes find Waverly straight away, still at work behind the bar, but leaning against it and listening to whatever story Chrissy is telling her over the near-unbearable noise coming from the stage.

The current act seems to be nothing more than an unremarkable homage to 90s punk rock and Nicole turns her nose up. They’re an all-male assortment led by the tattooed moron who was bothering Waverly the other night and have so many effects layered onto their guitars, it’s impossible to distinguish what song they’re actually playing. In their defence, they’re giving the performance their all, as if they’re headlining Woodstock or something, but the reception they’re getting from the crowd is lukewarm at best and they’re now just over-compensating in volume.

‘Ah ha!’ Waverly yells victoriously in her direction, pointing to the guitar as Nicole goes over to them. Chrissy spins around on her stool too, clearly confused by the random outburst.

‘Ooh.’ is all she says and claps her hands together excitedly.

‘Evening, ladies.’ Nicole offers as she props her guitar against the bar and takes off her jacket, setting herself down on the stool next to Chrissy.

‘So you’re really doing it, eh?’ Chrissy asks, face alight. ‘I should’ve guessed guitar! You have that whole _tortured artist_ vibe.’

‘What?’

‘Yo! Waverly!’

All three girls look up towards the sudden yell from the stage. It’s tattoo-guy who, even though they’ve clearly finished their song, is showing no sign of relinquishing the stage to whoever the next act may be. He gestures with his hand for Waverly to approach them - and be quick about it - but she just rolls her eyes and drops her hand to the bar with a smack instead.

‘Ugh.’ she says as duty calls and reluctantly trudges over to him.

Nicole watches her go and wonders what the deal is between the two of them. He strikes her as being attractive in a predictable sense…but immature. Definitely no match for Waverly, intellectually or physically.

But he’s obviously interested in her.

As if reading her mind, Chrissy clears her throat.

‘They used to date.’

Nicole doesn’t know what to say to that so she says nothing. She can tell Chrissy wants to make a joke or something but thankfully, she doesn’t. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d almost think she’s trying to help her.

‘Well. Very briefly,’ Chrissy continues, spinning the stem of her wine glass with her fingers. ‘But Waves wasn’t into it and he just doesn’t know when to quit.’

Nicole’s eyes find Waverly again and she watches tattoo-guy lean down from the stage and whisper in her ear with a smile that can only be described as a leer. He then rests his hand in the middle of her back, an act that makes Nicole fidget in her seat. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Champ Hardy. We all went to school together.’

Nicole hums as she absorbs this information but before they can discuss anything further, Waverly is back and agitated. Nicole doesn’t ask any questions and just watches as she gets six pint glasses out from under the bar and starts filling them from the taps. After a second, she realises Nicole is watching her and smiles shyly at the attention. She then slides one of the filled glasses of beer in front of her with a wink that makes Nicole’s stomach flip-flop and gets another out to finish Champ’s order.

Nicole is really trying not to look away and it seems Waverly is too. Like even blinking might interrupt the private conversation they’re having right now. They’re so absorbed in their little game that neither notices Chrissy’s eyes flicking back and forth knowingly between the two of them, her head resting dreamily in her hand.

Then Waverly overfills the last glass and it splashes onto the floor and over her shoes.

‘Fudge-nuggets.’ Nicole thinks she says under her breath and she has to stifle her laugh.

Waverly wipes her hands dry, arranges the glasses on a tray and hikes it up onto her shoulder to deliver to Champ’s band of cronies with a ‘Back in a sec’.’

She then skilfully negotiates her path with the tray and puts each glass down on the floor by the foot of their intended drinker while they start their next song. Champ, mid-lyric, winks his thanks to her and the polite smile she gives him in return falls from her face the moment she turns her back to him. She’s then stopped by another group on the way back, presumably ordering another round of drinks now that they’ve seen that she’ll apparently do table-service.

Should she just ask Chrissy if Waverly is single? Maybe she’ll know if she likes women too, Nicole thinks. Although, maybe that’s overstepping. At least Waverly doesn’t seem _repulsed_ by the idea. Maybe she-

‘He’s such an idiot.’ Chrissy says out of nowhere, with a grimace to the noise coming from the stage.

‘Who?’

‘Champ. I dunno how many times he’s been told that no-one here likes this crap.’

Champ is hammering his guitar and banging his head to the beat all the while being totally ignored by practically everyone in the room as they laugh and joke and drink amongst themselves. Nicole could almost feel sorry for his wasted effort if she wasn’t suddenly terrified to take to the stage herself. What if the audience just ignore her too?

At least her song choice is a little more…mellow.

‘Why is he doing so many songs?’ she asks with a frown.

‘Because he’s desperate for a regular thing like Waverly and Wynonna’s band. And until he gets one, he’s just gonna hog all of the slots on the Open Mic roster instead.’

‘Why does she let him?’

It comes out a little sadder than she intended and Chrissy seems to notice.

‘Stop worrying about him. It’s just easier than arguing with him I guess,’ she reasons, finishing off her drink before checking her watch. ‘Ooh!’

Then she spins around on her stool and tries to get Waverly’s attention from across the room.

‘Waves!’ she shouts and Waverly, slotting a notepad into the back pocket of her jeans, trots towards her curiously. Chrissy just taps her watch.

‘On it.’ is all Waverly says as she zigzags between tables and back towards the stage where Champ’s band are just about to finish their current punk rock atrocity. As Champ turns away from his mic to sync the ending with his drummer, Waverly commandeers it with a screech of feedback and speaks unapologetically over their finale.

‘OK everybody,’ she announces, ignoring Champ’s indignation behind her. ‘Time for our next act and a change of pace. You all know her. You all love her. Please give it up…for _Chrissy Nedley_!’

Nicole just about falls off her stool as the place launches into cheers and a round of applause. She hadn’t seen that coming at all and she looks to Chrissy for an explanation but she just shrugs.

‘You never asked,’ she says simply. ‘Keep my seat. I’ll be back.’

She makes her way to the stage, ignoring the daggers Champ and his bandmates are throwing her as they put their instruments down and reluctantly step away. She kisses Waverly sweetly on the cheek by way of thanks for the introduction and climbs up behind the microphone.

‘Evening, guys and gals,’ she says as she gets herself situated. ‘Let’s take it down a bit, shall we?’

The place laughs a little at the shameless swipe at Champ and Nicole joins in, watching him as he and his friends take over a table near the front and sit backwards on the chairs to watch her performance. She doesn’t seem intimidated by them in the slightest as her backing track starts – a bouncy country song that Nicole feels like she recognises but doesn’t know the words to.

‘I didn’t know she was a singer.’ Nicole tells Waverly excitedly when she finally returns to the bar after delivering her last drinks order.

‘She only does it for fun. We’ve tried to get her to join the band a few times but she’s not interested.’

Chrissy’s singing is sweet and she adds a little extra twang to the lyrics to make it sound even more country than it did already. Nicole enjoys it, swaying along supportively while she sips at her beer.

When she gets to her chorus, Nicole realises that Waverly is singing along quietly beside her too. A cute little sound that seems totally involuntary; like she can’t not sing along when there’s music playing. Nicole, feeling bold, is about to say something…maybe about how beautiful her voice is…when someone suddenly lands gracelessly on the stool that she’s is supposed to be watching for Chrissy.

Wynonna.

‘So, Dolls isn’t coming tonight. Something to do with Eliza,’ she says to Waverly, not bothering with any form of actual greeting before adding a sarcastic ‘Boo.’ onto the end.

Waverly just shrugs as Wynonna turns to Nicole with the most insincere smile she’s ever seen. But she’s ready this time and just waits expectantly for whatever she’s is about to say to her.

‘Pippi,’ she throws out and glances down at Nicole’s uniform. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. _Officer_ Longstockings.’

‘Wynonna!’ Waverly scolds and Nicole’s heart swoops a little from her defence.

‘Whatever. She knows I’m kidding. Right, Officer…?’

‘Haught.’ Nicole says confidently and Wynonna seems spoiled for choice.

‘Oh, so many jokes.’

Nicole and Waverly both roll their eyes as Wynonna takes off her coat. After a second, she spots the guitar case by Nicole’s leg and glances to her sister in question. Waverly just nods excitedly and Wynonna decides she’s not interested enough to ask anything further on the matter.

‘Could I get a drink please, baby girl?’

‘Oh, sure!’ Waverly says and practically skips away to get it without actually being told what she’s getting.

While she’s away, Wynonna and Nicole eyeball each other, each silently challenging the other to break the deadlock...but neither does.

‘There you go.’ Waverly announces when she returns, plonking down a glass of amber liquid that Nicole assumes is whiskey.

‘I’ll get it,’ she says, taking a couple of bills from her back pocket. ‘Plus my beer and whatever you and Chrissy have next.’

Waverly’s little ‘Ooh!’ is drowned out by a huffy Wynonna stating ‘I can buy my own damn drinks, thanks.’

‘I’m sure you can. But this one’s on me. Consider it an apology. For the other day.’

Wynonna stares at her for a second while Waverly waits, apprehensive about what might come out of her sister’s mouth next.

‘Fine. But you owe me the next two as well. Three! I said three!’

Nicole weighs the offer up and nods finally. ‘OK. Deal.’

‘Hear that, Waves? She’s gonna buy me five drinks.’

She then challenges Nicole to shake her hand and when she eventually does, Waverly seizes the opportunity to introduce them properly.

‘Wynonna, this is Nicole Haught. Nicole, Wynonna Earp.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Wynonna.’

‘Yeah, the pleasure’s all yours, Ginger Spice.’

When Chrissy finishes her song, it’s after 9 but Nicole figures they’re a little behind thanks to Champ’s reluctance to give up the stage. She probably did have enough time to change after all but she can’t be mad about it. Not when Waverly keeps looking over at her.

She’s clapping along with everyone else and whistling her fingers when Waverly and Wynonna’s friend, Doc the moustache-man, arrives looking hassled.

‘Cutting it fine, aren’t we?’ Wynonna says to him as he shrugs out of his coat and flings it over the bar beside Nicole.

‘I know, I’m sorry. Are we next?’

‘Yup,’ Waverly confirms, consulting her clipboard before glancing to Nicole and adding ‘And you’re after us.’ quietly just to her.

Nicole’s nerves bubble in her stomach at Waverly’s whisper, uneasy about having to follow them when she knows how well they’re received by the crowd. As if she can tell what Nicole is thinking, Waverly reaches across the bar and squeezes her wrist, rubbing the skin with her thumb a couple of times before she lets go.

‘Shorty, I’m done. Is that OK?’ she calls to a booth in the back corner where Shorty has been sitting with another older guy since Nicole came in.

‘No problem, Waves.’

Then she removes her apron and stows it underneath the bar as Chrissy’s voice comes through the mic again.

‘And now the one’s you’ve all been waiting for.’ is all she has to say for the whole bar to rise to their feet and cheer as Waverly, Wynonna and Doc edge around the tables and hop up onto the stage.

It takes them a couple of seconds to get themselves comfortable and arrange the equipment how they want it but the crowd keep clapping for them anyway. Waverly sets out three stools and microphones, Doc takes a _stunning_ sunburst coloured acoustic guitar from a case he obviously just keeps here and strums it experimentally. Wynonna has an acoustic bass guitar, the strap of which she flips over her head, then they all take their seats, Waverly in the centre with a tambourine in her hand.

‘Thank you so much,’ she tells the crowd as they finally settle down. ‘You’re too kind, thank you. How about a little Earp duet, eh?’

The crowd whoop and whistle as they settle into their seats again but Nicole stays standing, waiting for Chrissy to re-join her.

‘That was amazing! Well done!’ she whispers to her the moment she’s close enough but doesn’t hear her response as Wynonna counts the band in.

 _‘They don’t have rhinestone ball and chains, lunch trays don’t come with Chardonnay. The bars there ain’t got boys to buy us drinks…’_ she sings theatrically to her own bass line. Waverly mouths along and taps her leg with the tambourine. _‘We stick out like two bottle-blondes, I must admit it don’t sound fun, for fifteen girls to have to share one sink.’_

Wynonna’s voice is different to Waverly’s. It’s a mid-pitch with a soft gravel, perfectly suited to the heavier songs Nicole witnessed her singing last week. She sings with her lips touching the microphone and scrunches her face up for high notes.

When Waverly’s voice joins in at the chorus, clear as a bell, Nicole is mesmerised by how well they harmonise together despite sounding totally different on their own.

_‘Coz we’re way too pretty for prison. Hard time ain’t our kind of livin’. And I don’t wanna talk about the way those jumpsuits wash us out, we’re way too pretty for prison.’_

Nicole laughs at the lyrics as Chrissy turns around to do the same. Then Waverly takes over for the second verse.

_‘Anti-freeze in Gatorade. Arsenic in his lemonade. Takes just one snip to bleed his brakes but we ain’t gonna do it.’_

Champ chooses that moment, the beat between two lines, to moan loudly and it makes his friends laugh. Waverly, like a true pro, pretends he didn’t and carries on but Nicole can tell she’s rattled by the sudden interruption. Wynonna, seemingly also able to sense it, takes her hand away from her guitar just long enough to fix Champ’s group with her middle finger.

_‘…you ain’t Thelma, I ain’t Louise. But if we ask ‘em, they’d both agree we should put him through it.’_

Champ _oohs_ dramatically for the continued entertainment of his friends and Waverly has to close her eyes to concentrate. Wynonna quickly pats her on the knee before returning her hand to the fretboard and it’s a tiny gesture but Nicole can tell it relaxes her again.

_‘He cheated. He’s a villain. So let’s hire somebody to kill him…’_

As they sing the chorus again, Nicole catches Waverly’s eye and she gives what she hopes is an encouraging smile. Something that says _just ignore him, look at me instead_.

It’s a silent instruction that Waverly obeys.

When they finish, the place is on its feet again with Nicole and Chrissy included. It’s so loud that whatever unflattering noises Champ is making are almost drowned out. But Nicole can still hear them and she assumes Waverly can too. Quick, what can I arrest him for _right now_?

‘Don’t,’ Chrissy warns with another knowing smirk as Nicole takes a single step forward. ‘He’s not worth it. Besides, you’re up next.’

She’d somehow lost that fact in the red mist of her irritation with Champ and now her nerves were back tenfold. She glances up to the band again and finds Waverly hastily whispering in the ears of a very confused Doc and Wynonna. They’re visibly ready to play another song and Nicole suspects Waverly is telling them that she’s cut their slot in half in order to make room for her.

The thought makes her heart hammer inside her ribcage and she drains the rest of her beer, almost three-quarters of the glass, before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The whole bar seems deathly quiet to her ears as Waverly steps back up to the microphone.

‘OK folks. So, we actually have a new performer here tonight and I know she’s really nervous but I’m sure she doesn’t need to be. Please give the warmest Shorty’s welcome…to Nicole Haught.’

Chrissy excitedly pummels Nicole’s knees in encouragement before she leads the whole place in a polite round of applause that Nicole can barely hear. She takes a deep, steadying breath, like it’s the last one she’ll ever get, and picks up her guitar.

The walk to the stage feels a mile long and the curious crowd sound like they’re underwater to Nicole’s ears. Wynonna and Doc step past her in echo-y slow motion but Waverly remains where she was before; in the middle of the stage, clapping her hands together like everyone else and waiting for Nicole to reach her. She has the biggest smile on her face to the point where her eyes have almost disappeared and she squeezes the tops of her arms as soon as she’s within reach. She then gestures to the mic – _all yours_ – and instead of looping back to step down, she slides herself through the narrow space between Nicole and the mic-stand, her back gently brushing against Nicole’s front as she goes. The contact brings everything into abrupt focus, like Waverly is her clarity, and Nicole suddenly feels present again.

She puts her guitar across her lap, opting to take Waverly’s recently vacated middle stool and adjusts the mic stand so that it’s a little higher. ‘This could be a disaster. Bear with me.’ she tells the audience who chuckle lightly in response. She thinks she hears Chrissy hoot from somewhere near the bar and imagines Waverly, Wynonna and Doc are now stood with her, staring up at Nicole like an animal in a zoo. Luckily, there’s a spotlight directly on her face and she can’t really see much beyond the edge of the stage anyway.

‘So, I’ve just moved here from Calgary and this is a song I used to play all the time. Hope you guys like it.’

She clips a capo to the top fret of her guitar and strums a few times to check her volume. When she’s happy, she counts to three in her head and starts before she can overthink it. It’s a simple chord progression but she makes it a little fussier by knocking her knuckles against the body of the guitar too, creating her own gentle beat. It sounds good, she tells herself proudly as she closes her eyes…

…and opens her mouth.

_‘To the bag-packed, first love leaver. The heart-cracked, double-down dreamer. The home-sick for grass that’s greener and a slice of Mama’s peach pie.’_

_‘To the flat-broke, couch-cushion gas money. The worker-bee that ain’t gettin’ no honey. Missin’ someone; all the while runnin’. Gunnin’ for the brighter lights.’_

_‘Here’s to the break-ups that didn’t break us. Breakdown, wrong turn that takes ya to a little dive bar in Dahlonega. Hear a song from a band that saves ya, man.’_

_‘It’s a-hittin’ rock bottom, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em. Nothing’s going right. Makin’ the best of the worst day kinda night.’_

Nicole chucks her strings a little louder during the interlude and uses the time to take a quick look around the bar. She can only really see silhouettes but she’s fairly certain she has every single person’s attention…but no-one is concentrating on her harder than Waverly Earp. Standing directly under one of the lights above the bar, Nicole can see her more clearly than anyone, eyes shining and mouth open ever so slightly in what she thinks is wonder.

The sight makes her feel invincible and she starts the second verse feeling like nothing can touch her. Nothing can hurt her. Nothing bad can happen as long as Waverly is there and looking at her like that.

_‘We’ve all got a number we don’t wanna drunk-dial and a good friend we ain’t seen in a while. And a slow dance left in these boots, got a chance of puttin’ down new roots.’_

‘What the friggedy-frack?’ Wynonna asks, astounded, but is immediately shushed by Waverly. ‘Did you know she could play?’

‘Ohmigod, she’s so good!’ Chrissy hisses.

‘Would everybody shut. Up.’ Waverly demands quietly and is surprised when even Wynonna conforms.

This is potentially the single sexiest thing she’s ever witnessed and her friends are _ruining it_.

‘I do like her guitar.’ Doc whispers after a second and she elbows him hard in the ribs.

Everyone please just be quiet, Waverly thinks. Let me process this.

Nicole. Brand-new-to-town, still-in-her-super-hot-police-uniform Nicole is sitting on a stool, singing a beautiful song to a bunch of complete strangers and has them completely transfixed. It might not even be their kind of music but they’re hooked. Her voice, her playing, her beautiful face drawing them in. They’re just totally…hooked. Like magic. Honest-to-God magic.

‘Yo. Another round, Waves.’

Of course. Of course he’s the _only_ one in the entire room who isn’t hypnotised into silence.

She does her best to ignore him but he clicks his fingers in front of her face impatiently, not even bothering to lower his voice while Nicole is on stage. ‘Hello? What, you’re not talking to me now?’

‘She finished ten minutes ago, Champ. Get your own damn beer.’ Chrissy says, shoving him so he’s no longer leaning across her to get to Waverly.

‘Could you possibly move out of the way, please Partner.’

‘Oh my god. Would you all please just shut up!’

Everyone falls silent in the wake of Waverly’s outburst, Doc even going so far as to raise his hands in surrender. Champ eyeballs her before following her line of sight and he scowls darkly at the subject.

‘Whatever.’ he tells them as he pushes himself off the bar and heads back towards his table to sulk and Waverly affords him a very brief side-eye before zoning in on Nicole again.

_‘Here’s to the break-ups that didn’t break us. Breakdown, wrong turn that takes ya to a little dive bar in Dahlonega. Meet a girl outside Atlanta…’_

‘Oop. Gay.’ Wynonna suddenly says like it’s what everyone was thinking and Waverly whips her head to look at her. ‘Sorry. Quiet like a mouse.’

‘No. What did you just say?’

‘I said…gay?’

She and Waverly just stare at each other for a second before Wynonna lamely points to Nicole to make her point and break the tension.

_‘Just singing along with your drink raised. A pretty little blonde thing’s lookin’ your way…’_

‘Not necessarily, Wynonna.’ Waverly counters irritably, glancing towards the stage to make sure Nicole can’t hear any of this. ‘It’s just the song lyrics.’

‘No Waves. I think she might be onto something.’ Chrissy says cheerfully and her agreement with Wynonna throws Waverly. She then adds ‘ _She gay_.’ like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Waverly isn’t sure why she suddenly feels so…panicked.

Like the bottom’s just fallen out of her stomach.

Like she’s just remembered something really important that she didn’t do and now it’s too late.

She shakes her head and tries to relax her shoulders under the weight of the uncertain look she can now feel coming from Chrissy. She knows she’s worried that she’s just come across as nonchalant, maybe even disrespectful, and Waverly wants to somehow signal that it’s OK; she’s OK; but Wynonna is stood _right there_. She just looks back up towards Nicole, but leans ever so slightly towards Chrissy and hopes she understands.

If she had to choose who knows her better, her best friend or her sister, Waverly would say it’s too close to call. She and Wynonna share a bond she can’t even describe but some things are definitely easier to explain to someone who is a little more removed. When she was in college, sharing an off-campus apartment with Chrissy, and brought a girl home for the first time, Chrissy hadn’t freaked out or made fun of her. They’d just talked about it at the breakfast table the following day and she’d asked all the same questions she would have had it been a guy – Where did you guys meet? How was it? Will you see her again?

She’d been exactly who Waverly needed at a time when she was really struggling to figure out who she was. She’d thanked her afterwards for being so cool with an enormous bunch of sunflowers that had brought a tear to Chrissy’s eye. A better friend, Waverly couldn’t imagine.

Wynonna, on the other hand, had no idea about this facet of her sister’s existence. Waverly felt guilty for hiding such a big thing from her, especially when she’s pretty sure she knows everything about Wynonna. Even the stuff she never, ever wanted to know.

But what if this is too much? What if it freaks her out and their relationship is never the same? It’s never been a factor before because Waverly’s never met anyone here in town that she’s liked enough to consider the ramifications nor did she ever think she would. It all seemed so unlikely.

At least until now.

God, she barely even knows Nicole. She doesn’t even know for sure that she’s into women. But Waverly knows, logically, that there’s no smoke without flames and the fire in Nicole’s eyes when she looks at her is clear as day. _I mean, isn’t it?_

God, she’s screwed.

Nicole lets the final note ring and there’s a brief moment where no-one moves. No-one even seems to breathe. It’s a silence that feels heavy on her shoulders, pushing downwards to the point where she physically slumps on the stool. But then the room erupts in whistles and cheers and her face splits into an enormous grin.

She hugs her guitar to herself like a safety blanket as the crowd continue to applaud and she realises that, in all the times she’s performed on stage, she’s never been more proud of herself than she is in that moment.

‘Thank you,’ she tells them. ‘Thank you so much.’

She gets to her feet, feeling dopey and satisfied and looks around for where she put her guitar case.

‘Oh wait,’ she then says into the mic, leaning down a little. ‘I’m so sorry. I dunno who’s next but uh, please welcome to the stage…whoever had 9:30.’

The room laughs a little at the chaos and she makes her escape; guitar in one hand, case in the other.

On her way back, a trio of people a little younger than herself pass by her on their way to the stage. A gangly guy with a kind face is clutching a red, hollow-bodied electric guitar; a sweet-looking Asian guy is struggling under the weight of a double-bass and the youngest of the three (and only girl amongst them) is nervously fidgeting with a pair of drumsticks. She pats Nicole once on the back as she passes and Nicole realises that she’s just a kid. Wait, why is she in a bar?

‘Oh my god!’ Chrissy yells in her face. ‘That was incredible!’

And without warning, she flings her arms around Nicole’s neck, pulling her into a tight hug. Wynonna wags her eyebrows at Waverly and receives a hard slap across the arm for her trouble. ‘Ah-wuh!’

‘What?’ Nicole asks, stepping back from Chrissy having missed Waverly’s attack entirely.

‘Nothing,’ Wynonna replies, rubbing her bicep. ‘Nice going up there, Red.’

Nicole is trying to think of something clever to say to counter the first pleasant thing Wynonna has said to her when the young girl who patted her on the back clears her throat into the microphone. She then confidently says ‘Evening everybody. We are the Purgatory Three.’ before launching into a full rockabilly routine with her friends, the quality of which takes Nicole and the rest of the gang by surprise.

The old-fashioned tone of the guitar and chunky double-bass thumps raise the tempo of the room after Nicole took it all the way down and while the reaction is solid, no-one seems more into it than Shorty himself. When the girl starts to sing, it’s with a fairly typical teenage voice but the beat she sets on her modest drum kit is perfect for the song they’re doing. It’s definitely more pleasing to the ear than Champ’s band were and Nicole vows to try and catch them again, on a day when she has more time.

But also, she needs to check that kid’s ID.

‘Hey.’ she hears to her side, quiet and shy - Waverly.

‘Hey yourself.’

‘So that. That was-’

‘Forgive me but I do not believe we have been formally introduced.’ Doc suddenly says, his hand outstretched towards Nicole and he seems impressed when she gives it a strong shake in return. ‘John-Henry but people usually just call me Doc.’

‘Nicole Haught.’ she replies, casting an uncertain glance to Waverly who seems off at the interruption.

‘It is nice to meet you, Officer Haught.’ he points to the guitar she still hasn’t put away. ‘May I?’

‘Oh, sure. I need to put my jacket on anyway.’

‘You’re leaving?’ Waverly asks quickly.

‘Yeah. I’m really sorry, I have to get back. I’m so much later than I said I’d be.’

‘Oh, OK.’

Waverly hesitates for a fraction of a second before she retreats and Nicole has to resist the urge to reach out to her. To tell her to come back.

‘This is a truly beautiful instrument.’ Doc says as he appraises the guitar carefully, ignoring Waverly edging between them to sit elsewhere. ‘You have excellent taste.’

‘Well, I can’t really take credit for that. It was a gift.’

‘A gift? Of this value? That is clearly a person who thinks most highly of you, Officer Haught.’

‘Nicole, please,’ she stresses as she zips her PSD jacket all the way to her neck. ‘And hopefully not anymore.’

He scowls in confusion at the comment but hands the guitar back to her so she can slide it away into its case. She so desperately wants to catch Waverly’s attention before she leaves but she’s sat herself back down on a stool a little way away and she and Chrissy are watching the rockabilly band on the stage with their backs to her.

‘Anyway, I’ll see you guys later.’ she throws to the group at large but Waverly doesn’t turn around. Chrissy does however, so Nicole knows she must have heard her.

‘Bye Nicole. Well done, again!’ Chrissy shouts with an enthusiastic wave over her shoulder.

‘Thanks.’

‘Goodnight, Officer Haught.’ Doc says, tipping his hat to her. She rolls her eyes when he still doesn’t use her first name and finds herself strangely excited by the fact that even Wynonna bothered to raise her hand in farewell. At least she’s making headway with one of the Earps.

Along the bar, Chrissy has to nudge Waverly four times before she’ll acknowledge it. Each one is gentle but insistent, like she knows Waverly might snap at her but she cares enough to keep trying anyway.

‘Waverly,’ she prods. ‘Wave.’

‘I’m fine, Chrissy. Please. I just want to watch the band.’

‘Waverly, what song are they playing?’ she asks incredulously, one eyebrow raised. ‘You’re _not_ listening to them. You’re thinking about Nicole…who’s gone now, by the way.’

Waverly fidgets in her seat and crosses her legs the opposite way.

‘Talk to me. Wynonna is all the way over there. Tell me what you’re freaking out about.’

She takes an age to answer and Chrissy isn’t even sure she will. But eventually, she surrenders.

‘I’m…scared. She scares me.’

‘Who? Wynonna?’

‘No,’ Waverly speaks quietly and Chrissy has to really concentrate to hear over the music. ‘Nicole. I mean, I’ve only known her for what, a week? This isn’t normal.’

‘So what? Every crush has to start somewhere, Waves. Besides, she was so amazing tonight, I think even I might have a crush on her.’

Her head snaps up at that but Chrissy just winks and sticks her tongue out. ‘Game on, bitch.’

Waverly smiles at the jibe and pushes her friend, almost enough to knock Chrissy off her stool.

‘Hey!’ she laughs as she settles herself again and then softly bumps her fist against Waverly’s knee. ‘You should go after her.’

‘What? No way!’

‘Why not? Wynonna is talking to Doc. She won’t even realise you’ve gone.’

‘And say what? She might not even be interested. She might not even be gay!’

‘If that girl turns out to be straight or somehow doesn’t have a crush on you, I will give you…’ She looks around helplessly. ‘My Dad. I will give you my Dad.’

Waverly barks out a laugh and shakes her head, thinking the idea over…minus the part about being gifted Sheriff Nedley.

‘Well, what if Wynonna _does_ ask where I’ve gone?’

‘Which she won’t. But it’s fine. I got you. Now, go!’

Waverly, suddenly determined, jumps to her feet but hesitates again almost instantly. Is this really such a good idea? Nicole was clearly in a hurry to get somewhere. Oh God, maybe someone is waiting at home. She hadn’t even considered that. She hasn’t mentioned anyone but that doesn’t necessarily mean there _isn’t_ someone.

‘Waverly, could you stop thinking so loudly? I’m trying to listen to the band.’ Chrissy tells her with a smirk before shoving her away, trying to make a point without alerting Wynonna.

‘OK,’ she says and takes a deep breath. ‘OK. Wish me luck.’

‘Get out of here!’

Waverly is cautious as she moves towards the door, double-checking on every other step that her sister hasn’t noticed. Luckily for her, she seems to be so engrossed in flirting with Doc (at least Waverly assumes she’s flirting, because she usually is) that she makes it all the way to the coat-rack and out of the door, hidden amongst another group who were leaving at the same time, without being seen.

At least, not by Wynonna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded the first two chapters together just to get the story going. Chapter 3 will be up next week.
> 
> SONGS:  
> "Suds In The Bucket" by Sara Evans (not mentioned explicitly but if you want to know what Chrissy was singing at Open Mic, this is what I imagined)  
> "Way Too Pretty For Prison" by Miranda Lambert & Maren Morris  
> "Little Dive Bar In Dahlonega" by Ashley McBryde


	3. Runnin' Just In Case (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Is it my turn to show off now?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit o' backstory...coz we do love a bit o' backstory in this fandom :)

She tries to regulate her breathing; each huff coming from her mouth in a thick cloud of vapour. She can’t believe creeping around, avoiding her sister and ducking out in pursuit of a crush she barely knows is giving her this much of a thrill. Her heart is pounding like she’s just run a lap of the block.

She checks behind herself one more time and edges between a couple of motorcycles that are parked in a line outside the bar. She then swings her coat around her shoulders, having managed to grab it from the rack on the way out. She’d heard on the news earlier that the temperature is supposed to drop to almost fifteen below tonight so thank God for opting to wear jeans this morning and not just shorts.

It’s OK. I’ll be quick, she tells herself as she waits for a couple of cars to pass. Freezing her butt off aside, she doesn’t particularly want to leave Chrissy alone to come up with a cover story as to where she’s gone if Wynonna does happen to ask. Having witnessed her improv’ before, Waverly honestly thinks she’d prefer it if Chrissy just outed her over whatever might come to mind under pressure. She supposes that her complete inability to lie comes as a by-product of being the Sheriff’s daughter but, that being said, _she_ was the Sheriff’s daughter once too. At least she understands the-less-is-more approach whereas Chrissy just never stops digging.

She looks around, feeling a little manic now that she’s set herself a time limit. She isn’t surprised that she can’t see Nicole though. It’s been a few minutes since she ignored her departure - _like a bonehead!_ – and her house is like, five feet away. She’s probably inside by now with her shoes off and pajamas on and it’s that thought alone that carries Waverly across the street towards Buffalo.

She isn’t even sure what she’s going to say to her. Maybe she’ll get to her front door and chicken out. Maybe she’ll chicken out before she even gets to the front door. Maybe she should just turn around right here…?

No. _No._

She may not have a plan but Nicole at least needs to know how amazing her performance was tonight. The song; her guitar-playing; her gorgeous, otherworldly singing voice. It was just so-

God, have they even invented a word to describe something like that?

Feeling defiant against her own nerves, she marches along the street towards the big blue house that once belonged to Mattie Perley. It’s steel-grey in this light and dark inside; no drapes closed across any of the windows. It looks kinda sad amongst its Christmas-light clad neighbours and the gate into the front yard is standing wide open.

She frowns at it from the sidewalk, thinking hard about the fact that she can’t see any movement at all inside. Maybe she’s in the kitchen? That’s probably at the back of the house, right?

Second guessing her own instincts, she powers up the path, hops the couple of steps onto the porch and raps soundly on the front door. It echoes slightly on the inside and she hums nervously while she waits.

It’s tuneless at first but then she realises she can still faintly hear that funny little band all the way from the bar and she’s somehow unconsciously synced up with them. Oh, God she can only imagine what the residents must think when _their_ band – or worse, Champ’s band – plays Shorty’s. Maybe she’ll ask around. Make sure it’s not too loud for anyone…

When nothing happens; nothing moves inside and no-one comes to answer, she exhales sharply through her nose and tries again, just in case.

On the bright side, no tall, muscular boyfriend answers the door either but it doesn’t stop Waverly’s shoulders from dropping in disappointment anyway.

It’s dumb, she knows, but she can already feel the beginnings of a lump at the back of her throat. As if she’s being rejected even though she knows it’s completely plausible that Nicole just isn’t home. The problem is that she’s all hyped up now and what if she never gets another chance? A chance for what, she has no idea. She had no strategy for this conversation past Nicole opening the door. Perhaps wearing a pair of soft plaid pants and a tank top...

She gives the house one last look then sighs, figuring she should probably just head back to Shorty’s before she freezes to death…but as she turns, she’s caught in the headlights of an approaching car. She squints against them and watches as it slows and then expertly turns right into Nicole’s driveway. When the engine’s killed and the lights go off with it, she adjusts her eyes to the dimpled smile of the driver which is almost just as bright as the headlights had been.

‘-verly?’ she hears Nicole say, having started the word before the door was even open.

She’s still wearing that damn police uniform but has a PSD beanie on her head that she wasn’t wearing before. Waverly notes that she looks cute in hats before offering a timid ‘Hey’ and a wave she instantly regrets.

‘Hey!’ Nicole says, like she can’t believe her luck. ‘What are you doing here?’

Not expecting to have to answer such a complicated question right off the bat, Waverly scrabbles around her brain for some kind of suitable reply but if Nicole notices her nerves, she doesn’t say anything. She just smiles patiently and sidesteps the narrow gap between the front of the car and the garage door but the closer she comes, the foggier Waverly’s mind gets.

‘I, uh. I just…wanted to apologise.’

Nicole’s eyebrows shoot up, the _what for?_ going unsaid.

‘F-for ignoring you. Before. When you left.’

She’s standing right in front of Waverly now, gaze intense and head angled slightly downwards to compensate for their difference in height. ‘You came all the way here to say sorry for not saying bye?’

‘Well, I haven’t exactly trekked across the Andes but…’

She smiles at her own joke and barely hears a concerned whisper of ‘I know, but it’s cold…’ that she gets in response.

Nicole’s eyes then scan Waverly’s coat, as if trying to decide whether or not she’s satisfied that it’s warm enough for this weather. It makes Waverly smirk and relax her shoulders.

‘Thank you for your concern, Officer Haught, but I’m fine,’ she says, suddenly finding herself plenty warm enough. ‘Anyway. I just thought I’d – OH MY GOD!’

‘What? What!?’ Nicole yells, spinning around.

‘Who is _that_?’

She follows to where Waverly is pointing – to a blond, furry face up at the window inside the car - and drops the hand that had shot straight to the holster at her hip. ‘Jesus Christ, Waverly! Don’t do that to a cop! I was ready to taser my own dog!’

Waverly laughs at her reaction and she skirts past, boldly squeezing Nicole’s forearm in playful apology as she goes. Once she gets to the window, she taps gently on the glass like a child might at a pet store and the dog’s tail is basically a blur.

‘Hey buddy! Hi!’ she says through it. ‘I didn’t know you had a dog!’

Nicole just smiles and shrugs.

So, she’s hot, sweet, musical _and_ likes animals. If it turns out she _does_ like women, Nicole Haught is basically perfect. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Uh, he’s called Arlo.’ she tells her, moving to open the door and scoop him out. He rolls himself onto his back in her arms and flops his tongue out to one side like a complete dope.

‘ _Arlo_. Oh my God, that’s so cute. Hi, Arlo!’

She resists the urge to immediately reach out to him, remembering Mama telling her when she was younger not to rush up to strange dogs. _It’s still a wolf at the end of the day_ , she’d say and while Arlo _is_ super cute, she still heeds her mother’s warning and waits patiently for the go-ahead anyway.

‘You can stroke him. It’s OK.’ Nicole tells her kindly like a mind-reader and she can’t help the tiny ‘Yay!’ that then escapes her. She steps forward and scratches behind both of his ears as he wriggles around in Nicole’s grip.

‘Do you wanna hold him?’

‘Can I?’ Waverly gasps.

‘Of course.’

She moves to pass him over and, in her excitement, the back of Waverly’s hand brushes against her stomach during the transfer. The fact that something so simple can cause a burst of butterflies in her own stomach is concerning. _This is not normal!_ she yells inside her own head as she shuffles Arlo’s gangly frame around until he looks comfortable. He’s heavier than she thought he’d be but he rubs his face against her chest affectionately so she figures the dead arms will be worth it.

‘I think he likes you.’

‘Yeah right. That is such a clichéd thing to say.’

‘He does!’ Nicole laughs. ‘Although, there aren’t many people he doesn’t like so-’

‘Wow. Way to make me feel special and then take it away again.’

Nicole just shrugs brightly again, watching as Waverly and Arlo take turns to kiss and snuggle each other. Her nose turns up adorably when Waverly starts telling him in a baby-voice how handsome he is and he squirms in her arms like she’s embarrassing him.

‘Did you want to come inside?’ Nicole then asks, her face already mortified by the time Waverly’s head whips up. ‘Oh God, that came out wrong. I’m sorry! I meant for a cup of coffee or something to eat. I was just about to make some mac & cheese because I’ve been at work all day and I haven’t eaten since breakfast so I thought maybe you’d like to join me but I didn’t mean it to come out like that and it’s cold and-’

‘Nicole,’ Waverly says patiently and she falls silent. For some reason, Nicole’s uncertainty dispels her own and even though Chrissy, Wynonna and Shorty’s pop into her mind again then for a briefest of seconds, she feels completely at ease when she says ‘I’d love to.’

Because screw it.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. Lead the way. I’ll bring this.’ Waverly says, hiking Arlo up a little.

Nicole beams and locks the car before heading towards the front door, looking behind herself to make sure Waverly and Arlo are following. She’s so excited and so focussed on the fact that yes, they are that even her usually impeccable cop-senses completely miss the fact that they’re being studiously watched by a dark figure at the end of the street.

‘Wow,’ Waverly says sarcastically, lingering in the entryway once the lights are on. ‘Love what you’ve done with the place.’

There’s absolutely nothing in here. The hallway is simply a polished floor, an old-fashioned light fixture and a staircase. That’s it. But Nicole just laughs, sliding her coat down her arms and hanging it on a hook by the door. The beanie comes off next, which she tucks into one of the sleeves and she runs a self-conscious hand through her hair once it’s exposed.

‘Here-’ she says, offering to take Arlo back from Waverly so she can remove her own coat too. She sets him down on the floor and he bounds away, presumably into the kitchen, with his giant paws uncoordinated beneath him. She then drops down onto one knee and begins unfastening her complicated work boots while Waverly hovers.

It’s nice and warm in here at least. Homely, despite being empty and she wanders a couple of paces towards a doorway to the right – no furniture in there either.

‘This is what I imagined Miss Honey’s house to be like when I read “Matilda”.’ she says, amused.

Nicole chuckles and says ‘Yeah, it’s-’ before stopping and heaving a deep, slow sigh. She doesn’t say anything else and Waverly is worried she’s embarrassed her as stands up again on socked-feet.

‘Oh! Should I take my shoes off, too?’ she asks, already standing on one leg with her hand on the zipper of her ankle boot.

‘Surprisingly enough, Waverly, I am not house-proud.’

It’s sarcastic and Waverly drops her shoulders (and foot) with a smile. Any modicum of tension that may have built up disappears again as Nicole says ‘Come on.’ and guides her further into the house.

When she flicks on the lights in the kitchen, the glow that overspills back into the hallway lands on something Waverly hadn’t noticed before. Tucked into the corner, underneath the stairs is an unassuming upright piano. The stool is pushed right underneath and the lid is closed over the keys but it looks aged and well-loved.

‘Do you play?’ she asks as she examines it.

‘Hmm? Oh. No. It was my aunt and uncle’s.’

Waverly notes the past tense and chooses not to ask anything else as she finally joins Nicole in the kitchen.

It’s a nice size; way bigger than the one at the homestead. There’s an island in the middle and a dining area over by the back door. It’s so dark outside that the glass just reflects the room back at her and she spots Arlo lapping from a water dish on the floor in front of it. As she turns back to Nicole, who’s reaching effortlessly into an upper cabinet, she notices an almost imperceptible sliver of pale skin at her hip where she’s untucked her shirt and she gulps like she’s just walked in on her in the shower.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ she asks, rummaging around. ‘Tea, coffee? I think I have beer too, or water.’

‘Tea would be amazing, please.’

‘Tea. Coming up.’

Nicole busies herself with the kettle and a couple of mugs while Waverly sits down in the nearest chair. There are four arranged around a simple dining table that has a bunch of blue and white flowers in the middle. She realises they’re in a drinking glass instead of a vase and she’s about to make another comment when Nicole speaks first.

‘So, uh,’ she says, glancing over her shoulder. ‘To what do I really owe the pleasure?’

She asks with complete confidence. Like any reason Waverly could give her will be totally acceptable as long as she’s here. She could even say she’s popped by to kill her and Nicole would probably still just smile, nod and hand her a knife.

‘To be honest,’ Waverly admits after a second. ‘I’m not completely sure.’

As predicted, the vague response seems good enough for Nicole who just goes back to emptying a packet of Kraft Mac & Cheese into a pot and filling the mugs with water.

‘How about you? Like, why Purgatory?’

Nicole is quiet while she works and Waverly briefly wonders if she even heard her.

She did, of course. She’s just thinking about how to respond. She hates talking about Shae and that whole situation but she has no reason to lie to Waverly either; even if there is a tiny fear in the background of her mind about how she might react. It’s a small town, after all.

‘Unless it’s a secret?’ Waverly then adds daringly and Nicole shakes her head a couple of times, spoon tinkling as she stirs the teabags around.

‘Milk?’ she asks.

‘Ooh. Yes, please. And two sugars…if you have any?’

Nicole follows the instructions but abandons the mac and cheese in favour of delivering one of the mugs to Waverly at the table. She’s given her a large white one with the Calgary Flames emblem on the side and she thanks her as she sits down in the chair opposite.

‘I’ve just gotten divorced.’ Nicole says finally and Waverly’s eyes go wide over the rim of her cup.

‘Oh!’

‘Is that bad?’

‘No!’ she says quickly, putting her drink down and waving her hands around. ‘No, not at all. So, you came to Purgatory to-?’

‘Start over, I guess.’

‘Wow. That’s really brave of you.’

Nicole looks up at that and Waverly feels strangely vulnerable under her gaze, like she suddenly wants to confess all her secrets even though she doesn’t really have any. Except for not being straight. Oh, and her enormous crush on Nicole. She quickly looks away.

‘Well, I think it’s brave,’ she whispers, nervously rotating her mug with her hands. ‘I’m so sorry. Is this like, a tough subject? We can talk about something else…’

‘No, no. I mean, _yes_ , it is. But it’s fine.’

She smiles then, full dimples, and Waverly finds that she can’t help but mirror her before asking ‘Weren’t you gonna eat?’

‘No, it’s OK.’

She narrows her eyes as Nicole glances behind herself, back towards the pot containing her weak attempt at dinner and says ‘Unless you don’t mind?’ like she thinks she’s being rude.

‘What? Of course not. _Please_. To be honest, I could go for some too.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. As long as there’s enough?’

‘I’ll…yeah…I’ll make sure there’s enough.’ Nicole says, smiling again as she gets up.

Waverly watches as she sets to work, moving around the kitchen quietly going from the stove to the refrigerator and back again. She occasionally looks over but pretends she didn’t every time Waverly catches her.

Which is every time because Waverly hasn’t looked away once (well, except for when Arlo nudged her in the leg on his way past and she jumped having forgotten he was there.)

She wants to know everything about Nicole, she’s decided. Everything. She wants to know about her family, her career, her life in Calgary, her music. It feels like a thousand new questions come to her after every conversation they have and while she knows she should probably change the subject, ‘How long were you married for?’ comes out anyway before she can stop it.

‘Not very long,’ Nicole admits, unbothered as she stirs the pot. ‘A little over a year.’

‘One year?!’

‘By the time it was finalised, yeah. We separated months ago. Well, separated but still lived together…but we weren’t, y’know, _together_ -together.’

‘Wow. That must’ve been awkward.’

‘No more than usual.’

Waverly grimaces sympathetically as she takes a sip of tea. She couldn’t imagine living under the same roof as an ex-partner let alone an ex- _spouse_. It’s bad enough seeing Champ at work and they didn’t even date for very long.

‘So,’ she says cautiously, hoping she’s not being too nosy. ‘Does this divorce have anything to do with why you don’t seem to have any furniture?’

And to her surprise, Nicole smirks at her deduction. At least, Waverly thinks she’s smirking. She can only see the side of her face.

‘So, Arlo-’ she starts and Waverly’s eyes flick to him, sniffing around the floor. ‘He’s a rescue. I found him during a case I was working back home. And, cutting a long story short, I was allowed to adopt him afterwards. This was like, two months ago. But at the time, things between me and Shae were…really bad and she was saying all this stuff…’

Waverly, although listening intently to Nicole’s story, has taken precisely two things from it so far – “Shae” and “she”. She can already feel her breathing picking up and she takes another sip from her mug just to have something to do with her hands.

‘…and I got really panicked that she was gonna try and take him in the divorce. To hurt me, or whatever. I mean, she had no right to. He’s mine. But he was an “acquisition during our marriage” and her lawyer was really pushing for everything he could get - some asshole-friend of her parents. Anyway, I told her to keep the apartment, keep the furniture…as long as I got to keep Arlo.’

‘What? So, she just took everything?’ Waverly asks, alarmed.

‘Yup. Well, pretty much. I got to keep Arlo, my car, _most_ of my guitars, my aunt and uncle’s piano and Calamity Jane.’

Waverly frowns in confusion and Nicole snorts.

‘The cat.’

‘Oh! There’s a cat too?’

‘She’s around here somewhere,’ she says vaguely before returning to her story. ‘So, it was a pretty sweet deal for her in the end…and she mellowed eventually; once the dust settled.’

The last part is bitter as she plates up with more force than is probably necessary.

‘God. Nicole, I’m so sorry.’

‘You kidding? I’m not. I got to keep my dog.’

‘I know but you’ve been left with nothing.’ she says sadly as Nicole brings the bowls to the table along with one fork and one spoon.

‘It’s just stuff, Waverly. I have all the important things.’

She proffers the choice of utensils and smiles when Waverly picks the latter. She then sits back down in her chair and tucks into her food as quickly, yet politely as she can. Waverly just moves hers around the bowl with her spoon.

She isn’t sure why but she almost feels like she could cry. Not only does she have so many _new_ questions now but is also kind of horrified by how unjust this situation seemingly is for Nicole. She knows there’s two sides to everything but if that story is even partly true, then Nicole is incredibly selfless. And strong. And generous. Waverly already feels like she understands her a little better. How her brain works. How her heart works.

She blinks away the wetness in her eyes as Nicole looks up at her and says ‘You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’d say I’ve landed on my feet.’

Then she smiles peacefully.

Waverly watches her as she goes back to her food and they both eat in silence for a few minutes. When Nicole is finished, she puts her fork into her empty bowl and drinks the remainder of her tea while she waits for Waverly to catch up.

‘You can ask, y’know.’ she says, putting her Calgary Police Service mug down on the table.

‘Ask what?’

‘I dunno. Whatever it is you’re thinking about.’

Waverly rolls her eyes playfully and puts her spoon down, sitting back in her chair to regard Nicole. Nicole sarcastically does the same and it makes her laugh.

‘Tell me about your music.’

‘What about it? I dunno. I taught myself using YouTube videos and when I got good enough, I joined a band. We played a couple of regular bars in and around Calgary but I quit when it started getting a little too serious – I’m not really into that. I’ve played with a couple of bands since but…’

‘Is that how you met your wife?’

‘Ex-wife,’ Nicole is quick to point out. ‘And no. She’s a doctor at Rockyview Gen. We just crossed paths during a case the CPS was working on.’

Waverly frowns again, this time at the acronym.

‘Calgary Police Service.’ Nicole explains, tapping the side of her mug.

‘A doctor, huh?’

Nicole knows it shouldn’t be, but Waverly’s tiny hint of what she thinks might be jealousy is _really_ cute. ‘Mmhmm.’

After that, there’s a silence that feels like it lasts an eternity and Nicole rests her head in her hand. She watches Waverly, looking down into her own lap and she can practically hear the cogs turning in her mind. She nudges her one, gentle time with her foot under the table.

‘You were incredible tonight,’ Waverly whispers and finally looks up. ‘That’s why I came. I needed you to know that.’

Blood thunders around Nicole’s ears as they stare at one another. Neither moves and neither blinks, like they’re really and truly _seeing_ each other for the very first time. Then Waverly’s lip twitches, like she’s pleased with the effect she knows she’s having, and Nicole’s eyes instinctively flick down to it. The smirk grows.

After a few seconds, Waverly suddenly pushes her chair back with a scrape and gets to her feet. Nicole watches, panicked that she’s leaving but instead, she just taps the table a couple of times and says ‘Is it my turn to show off now?’ in a tone that Nicole finds strangely seductive.

She doesn’t wait for a response and wanders out of the kitchen, Nicole almost tripping in her hurry to follow. But Waverly hasn’t gone far. She’s stopped just beyond the doorway, by the old piano.

‘May I?’ she asks, nodding her head towards it.

‘You play? Yeah! Yeah, of course. Go for it.’

Waverly smiles at being granted such quick permission and carefully pulls the old stool out. She takes a second to make sure it’s in a comfortable position for her to reach the pedals and then lifts the lid with a creak.

‘I dunno how good it’ll sound,’ Nicole says, watching her. ‘It’s been a while.’

Waverly runs her hands softly over the keys in an aimless pattern, not hard enough to press any yet. Then she uses the long digits of her right hand to try a couple. The notes are loud in the empty room and Nicole jumps a little at the volume of the first one. While she thinks it sounds creepy, Waverly obviously likes what she hears, smiling as she moves up an octave.

She does a couple of scales with long gaps in between each note, listening for any faults in the tuning.

‘It’s perfect.’ she whispers before bringing her left hand up too.

She plays around a little then starts the intro to Marc Cohn’s _Walking in Memphis_ and Nicole grins. It’s a little clunky to begin with, like she’s reminding herself how it goes, and she only manages two or three bars before Nicole’s reaction makes her laugh and lose her place.

‘We did an event a little while ago,’ she explains on a chuckle, starting from the beginning again. ‘One of the first weddings we ever booked and the couple asked us to play it in our set. I don’t think I’ve done it since.’

Emboldened by having Nicole’s attention, she starts to sing along and Nicole’s eyebrows shoot up again. She knows Waverly’s a competent singer, obviously, but something about her being here, in her house, singing just for her makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

 _‘Put on my blue suede shoes_ \- ooh, good acoustics! -’ she adds brightly in the middle. _‘-and I boarded the plane. Touched down in the land of the delta blues in the middle of the pouring rain.’_

Nicole’s stomach is flip-flopping so much that she has to lean against the kitchen door-jamb to avoid falling over. She watches in a kind of awe as Waverly sings unashamedly, eyes closed in concentration.

‘We don’t have a proper piano at home,’ she says after the chorus, changing songs to something equally as impressive but that Nicole doesn’t recognise. ‘I just have a couple of keyboards so this thing feels amazing!’

She suddenly looks up as if just realising that Nicole doesn’t have a place to sit, and without stopping the movement of her fingers, she slides over on the stool - a silent invitation for Nicole to join her. Nicole thinks she might hyperventilate.

The request feels much heavier and much more important than just whether or not to take a seat at the piano. It feels like the next rung on a ladder; a slightly higher point from which to fall. A bigger risk.

After a deep, nerve-calming breath, she slowly edges over and lowers herself down next to Waverly, but facing the opposite direction so that her back is to the piano instead. Their right arms barely brush against each other as Waverly’s hands continue to move expertly across the keys and when Nicole glances at her, she’s gratified to find that Waverly is smiling too.

She messes around a little more and Nicole closes her eyes to listen, to concentrate on the warmth of Waverly’s proximity against the fabric of her shirt. A few bars into something she thinks might be by Taylor Swift, Waverly inhales and quietly asks ‘Are you sad?’

Nicole’s eyes open again at the unexpected question.

‘About your divorce, I mean?’

She thinks hard, turning it all ways inside her head as Waverly keeps playing. She can tell she’s eager to hear the answer but Nicole isn’t even sure what the answer is.

‘Depends. Am I sad about divorcing Shae? No, I don’t think so. But am I sad about _being_ divorced...? Yeah, a little.’

The music falters but Waverly recovers herself quickly and Nicole doesn’t acknowledge it.

‘I’m disappointed in myself, I guess. I never really saw myself as the type of person who would get married in Vegas and then get a divorce twelve months later.’

Waverly’s mouth goes into a ‘V’ like she’s about to ask about the Vegas part but Nicole just shakes her head as if to say _don’t ask_.

‘I’m just…usually a romantic. And I always thought that, if I got married, I’d be in one of those marriages that lasts forever because I know it would be to the person I’d want to _be with_ forever. When I think about the last year or so,’ she continues thoughtfully, barely above a whisper. ‘I kinda can’t believe it was even me. It feels like it’s just a story I’ve heard from someone else; not my own life. I just never thought I’d make a mistake like that.’

Waverly’s last note echoes a little but she doesn’t play another as she turns her head slightly toward her bench-mate.

‘I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Everyone thinks they’ll be married forever. And, if it _was_ a mistake-’ Waverly says, whispering too and Nicole sees her glance down at her lips. ‘-at least now you’ve fixed it.’

The empty hallway is silent save for the quiet tinkle of Arlo’s collar as he wanders around in the kitchen. Waverly has stopped playing, choosing to concentrate on other things instead and she feels breathless and lightheaded. There’s an addictive fuzziness in her ears every time she looks down at Nicole’s lips which only gets louder every time Nicole does the same.

She leans in then, just slightly, before she’s even aware that she’s instructed herself to do so. The entire length of their upper arms are now touching one another, connected firmly at the shoulders. Waverly can just, _just_ feel the tip of Nicole’s nose on her cheek and the ridge of her eyebrow is almost touching her own. All she’d have to do is lift her jaw a little…

Oh, God. This is happening. It’s happening. It’s about to happen. Waverly can feel Nicole’s breath on her face and her eyes have disappeared behind their lids. Her beautiful lips are ever so slightly parted and her brow is relaxed in peaceful concentration.

She doesn’t move however. She doesn’t contribute anything to closing the tiny gap that still exists between them. Maybe she’s letting Waverly take control, to choose what happens next because she’s sweet like that…or maybe she’s not sure she _wants_ to close the gap. Maybe this isn’t what she had in mind when she’s just moved here, after a divorce no less. While their current setting is _gorgeous_ and romantic as hell, they haven’t discussed anything. They’ve flirted, sure, but Waverly has no idea where Nicole’s head is at or what her expectations might be. Maybe it’s too soon and she doesn’t know how to say that she’s not ready for this.

Waverly pulls back but touches her forehead briefly to Nicole’s, desperate for at least some kind of contact after the build-up they’ve gone through to get to this point.

Then something orange appears in her peripheral and she turns her head a little further round to see what it is.

‘And there’s the cat.’ she whispers as Nicole eyes slowly slide open again.

In a feeling like having the bed sheets suddenly ripped away on a cold morning, Nicole turns away, effectively disconnecting herself from Waverly in more ways than one and she watches as Calamity Jane wanders silently into the living room without even looking at them.

She’s gone from sight as quickly as she came but their moment has disappeared with her. Nicole shuffles slightly on the bench and puts an inch or two of space between herself and Waverly, one butt-cheek now hanging uncomfortably over the edge and Waverly, deflated by the gesture, carefully closes the piano lid again. ‘I should go.’ she all murmurs and slides herself out onto her feet.

She makes for the door, where she left her coat, but turns back around half way there. She wants to apologise. To explain her reasons for interrupting. To ask Nicole what she’s thinking. But she can’t get her mouth to say anything at all.

Nicole is still sitting on the piano bench looking distinctly disappointed, almost upset and Waverly feels like her over-thinking has potentially just cost them both something incredible. Like the prospect of having something with Nicole was on a knife edge and she’s just ruthlessly pushed it off without actually meaning to. She feels like such an idiot and she wants to growl in frustration…or maybe march back to Nicole, pull her up by the collar of her shirt and kiss her soundly on the lips like she should’ve done a moment ago.

What would have happened if she’d kept her mouth closed? Would Nicole have pulled back, telling her she can’t do this? Or would they have been half way up the stairs by now?

She shivers at the thought.

Then, as if an internal decision has just been made, Nicole gets up. She gives Waverly a smile that can only be described as tight and cold and slips past her to get her coat for her. Waverly thanks her quietly as she hands it over and Nicole slides her hands into her pockets while she waits for her to put it on. She then opens the front door like a sock-footed butler and stands beside it, looking down at the floor instead of at Waverly. She’s protecting herself in case she can see her disappointment, not realising that her disappointment is all the more obvious _because_ she won’t look at her.

‘Thanks for the tea. And the mac and cheese, obviously.’ Waverly says, pulling her hair out of her collar and allowing it to rest gathered at one shoulder.

‘No problem.’

It’s short. Polite. But almost unkind and Waverly feels dejected as she steps outside onto the porch. It’s starting to snow and the temperature feels like a solid wall compared to the warmth inside of Nicole’s house. She can hear shouting and laughter at the end of the street where Shorty’s is and while the possibility of a super-pissed-off Wynonna pops into her mind again, it actually gives her an idea about how to maybe rescue whatever was about to happen between herself and Nicole. She spins herself around excitedly only to find that the door is almost closed.

‘Hey,’ she says and there’s a definite hesitation before Nicole pulls it open again. ‘You free tomorrow night?’

A visible look of surprise at the question makes Waverly take a couple of steps closer to her again, mainly so that she’s under the roof and out of the snow while she explains.

‘It’s Friday. The band plays Shorty’s on Fridays. You should come.’

Nicole glances down the street towards the bar and shuffles her feet for a second. ‘Maybe.’ she says eventually and Waverly’s shoulders fall.

‘Please?’

Nicole looks at her for a long, long moment then sighs. She nods like she doesn’t really want to but it’s good enough for Waverly. At least it was a nod and not an outright shake.

‘Thanks.’ she says, not even sure if that’s the appropriate response in this situation then heads out into the snow before Nicole can change her mind. She tries to wave from the sidewalk as she goes but Nicole has already disappeared back inside and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a hard chapter to write. It's made up of pivotal moments for my story so I've basically spent the last week and a half writing, reading, re-writing and re-reading...to the point where I could probably recite this whole chapter by heart and I'm still not 100% happy with it. It's also only half of the planned third instalment...but it was getting lengthy. The other half will be up shortly now that this bit is FINALLY out of the way.
> 
> Apologies for the delay and I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> SONGS:  
> "Walking In Memphis" by Marc Cohn


	4. Runnin' Just In Case (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Earth to Waverly!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of speech in this part but it's necessary to get the storylines movin' :)

Her phone buzzes but she ignores it. It’s probably a junk email or someone she barely cares about going live on Instagram.

Ugh, she’s in an awful mood. A bad sleep last night coupled with waking up to a grey and miserable morning has gotten her off to a really shitty start. She’s pretty sure she and Arlo have done a lap of the entire town on this dog walk so far but the fresh air and exercise has done little to lift her spirits. If anything, she feels worse than she did before because now she’s cold as well.

She kicks a stone hard with the toe of her boot and Arlo chases it, jerking slightly as it goes beyond the length of his leash.

‘Hey!’ Nicole scolds.

They head down a wide alleyway between the bookstore and the pharmacy and come out into what’s left of a deserted construction site. She’d found it the other day while out patrolling with Lonnie and he explained that it was supposed to be developed but the project ground to a halt after financial issues. It’s now just a large muddy space (although snowy today), dotted with the unfinished foundations of houses that might never exist. Luckily, it’s still mostly fenced in meaning it’s the perfect spot to let Arlo explore off-leash without having to worry too much about him disappearing.

Nicole unclips him and he barks at nothing but his own excitement as he takes off towards a mound of excavated earth, now sprouting grass shoots like it was intentionally landscaped and not just outright abandoned. She then starts to wander the perimeter, first passing the storage yard behind Shorty’s which is untidy with beer kegs (empty ones, presumably).

Once over at the far side, Nicole walks parallel with a simple chain link fence and Arlo gets himself obsessed with a scent-trail that has him zigzagging through several suspiciously-coloured puddles. She shouts to try and stop him but he ignores her and she resigns herself to the fact that he’ll probably need a bath once they get home.

While he’s busy, she decides to pull her phone out and make sure the notification before wasn’t anything important after all. It turns out to be Facebook.

 **Friend Request:** Waverly Earp **[Accept] [Ignore]**

Nicole sighs as she stares at the screen; at the tiny thumbnail of Waverly that she’s become so familiar with over the last week. She’s cropped up a lot in the comments of various Purgatory-related posts that Nicole has scrolled through but, after last night, she feels bad that she initially wants to ignore it.

She knows that that’s her humiliation talking though and that she would never actually do that.

She hits [Accept] with a cold thumb and puts her phone away again as she rounds the final corner of the site. She’s about to call for Arlo to come back when a parked car she hadn’t noticed before catches her eye.

It’s a black SUV; meticulously clean aside from the dirty snow clinging to the tread of the tyres. It’s parked with its front end just poking out from another, slightly narrower alley and she’s close enough to it to be able to see the inconspicuous red and blue lights hidden in the front grill – a police vehicle.

She narrows her eyes at the two occupants, their faces close together and looking pretty cosy in their little hiding spot. She’s all set to march over there and tell them to clear out; that this is not what the police-issued vehicles are for when she realises that it’s Xavier Dolls in the driving seat.

And Wynonna Earp sitting shotgun.

Her mouth falls open. What _the fuck_?

Wynonna glances up then and the flirty smile meant only for Dolls disappears from her face upon spotting their witness. When he also looks over, Nicole feels strangely exposed. Like she’s the one who’s just been caught out as she stands stock-still, foot in a partially melted puddle with a dog leash slung around her neck.

_What the actual fuck?_

Dolls scowls and moves like he’s about to get out and come over but Wynonna stops him by taking hold of his arm. At least _she_ has the decency to look embarrassed.

Wynonna and Dolls?

Dolls, who’s engaged to someone else?

_WHAT THE FUCK?_

Arlo then trots over, none the wiser, and jumps up at Nicole, distracting her from her staring match by decorating the front of her clothes with pawprints she can’t seem to care about right now. When she looks back to the car, Wynonna is still watching her, looking particularly sheepish.

Nicole sighs, squares her shoulders and raises both hands - _I am not getting involved_ – before she turns on her heel and strides all the way back around the site, Arlo having to jog to keep up.

Waverly didn’t give her a time for tonight so she arrives just after 7 and it’s probably the quietest she’s seen Shorty’s during opening hours so far. Almost half of the tables are vacant and there’s only a couple of people sitting up at the bar with lots of empty stools in between. The jukebox is playing old-fashioned country and western at a volume low enough that Nicole can actually hear conversations going on around the room. While she knows it won’t last and that this is simply the calm before the storm, she still thinks it makes a nice change.

She double-checks but she can’t see Waverly or anyone else she recognises yet so she sits down on her now usual stool at the bar and tries not to think about how uncomfortable tonight might be. Between her almost kiss with Waverly and whatever the hell is going on between Wynonna and Dolls, she wonders if it would’ve been better to have just not shown up at all.

She’s picking at a knot in the wood of the bar-top when someone walks past behind it. Her stomach swoops thinking it might be Waverly but when she looks up, it turns out to be Champ Hardy. He has a dish-towel flung over his beefy shoulder and is hanging wine glasses by the stems from a rack above his head. He doesn’t seem to have even noticed her which suits her just fine.

So, he works here too. Wow, the reasons to have just stayed home are really stacking up…

‘Hello, hello!’ comes a cheerful voice behind her and she swivels on her stool to see who it is.

‘Oh. Hey, Chrissy.’

‘There she is. Purgatory’s latest superstar,’ she says dramatically and it makes Nicole snort. ‘Gotten over your standing ovation yet?’

Champ glances over at that and the timing of his cough is a little suspect but they both ignore him.

‘Yeah, I’m good. You?’ she says and Chrissy pauses in dusting snow off the shoulders of her coat.

‘Uh-oh. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Why?’

‘You just seem-I dunno. Bad day at work?’

‘No. Day off.’

Chrissy’s eyes narrow and she scans her face for a second before she hums and sits down. ‘Have you ordered yet?’

Nicole shakes her head and Chrissy clicks her fingers three times in Champ’s direction. He looks up and pops a toothpick in his mouth.

‘Champ, could we please get a large glass of red, a-’ She glances to Nicole.

‘Beer, please.’

‘-a beer…oh, and a smile if you can figure out how.’

Champ gives her a sarcastically large grin before dropping it and Chrissy says ‘Atta boy’ as he moves off to get their drinks. She then rolls her eyes and turns back to Nicole expectantly.

‘What?’

‘You really gonna make me beg?’

Nicole has no idea what she’s talking about and it must show because Chrissy huffs and scoots her stool a little closer.

‘Details,’ she says quietly. ‘I know Waverly came over last night. What happened? Tell me everything!’

Nicole shuffles uncomfortably but doesn’t offer anything and Chrissy raises an eyebrow.

‘OK. Something’s definitely wrong,’ she decides. ‘Come on. Spill.’

‘Nothing. Everything’s fine.’

‘Then why do you look like someone creased your khakis?’

‘I don’t wear-’

‘Nicole.’ Chrissy says sternly and folds her arms across her chest.

‘Well, hasn’t Waverly told you?’

‘I haven’t spoken to her today and, PS, that’s just confirmed it. Now you have to tell me.’

Nicole sighs and rubs her face with her hands while Chrissy waits. Then Champ re-appears with their drinks and puts them down so heavily that some of Nicole’s beer sloshes over the rim and out onto the bar. She scowls at him and he puts his hand out, requesting ‘Eighteen bucks’ before Chrissy slaps it away.

‘Get bent, Champ. You know it goes on the tab.’

He makes a show of sucking his teeth then walks away without another word. Chrissy rolls her eyes again.

‘We almost kissed.’ Nicole admits but Chrissy, mid-sip, looks ecstatic. Once she puts her drink down, she dances a little in her seat and claps her hands together.

‘I knew it! You guys are so cute!’

‘Well, don’t get too excited. I think Waverly had second thoughts in the end.’

‘No way,’ Chrissy says adamantly without missing a beat and Nicole looks at her. ‘Walk me through it.’

So Nicole quietly recounts the whole evening. She tells her about Waverly being on the doorstep when she got back from Fish and Levi’s, introducing her to Arlo, the mac and cheese, the piano…and she barely reacts to any of it except raising her eyebrows in surprise when Nicole eventually gets to the part about Shae.

‘…I feel like, maybe she’s freaked out about me being divorced. Ugh, a _divorcee_ …’ Nicole says to finish, but Chrissy is shaking her head before she’s even done speaking.

‘Nicole, I can guarantee that that is not what’s bothering Waverly. Seriously. Look, I’m toe-ing the line here because she’s my best friend and she would _hate_ me talking to you about this but…she likes you. OK? Trust me. Think of it more as self-sabotage than judgement.’

‘Self-?’ Nicole starts to ask but then realises that someone’s just arrived and is standing close behind them.

Make that two people, hand-in-hand - Xavier and Eliza.

‘Oh, hey guys!’ Chrissy tells them brightly and Eliza smiles. Dolls stays silent, as per usual.

‘Hey, Chrissy. Newbie. Surprised to see you off work on a Friday night already.’

‘Yeah, I don’t start my official schedule until next week,’ Nicole says then throws a look at Dolls. ‘Besides, I’m not finding it _that_ crazy so far. If anything, it’s kinda boring.’

He clears his throat uncomfortably but luckily for him, Eliza doesn’t ask anything else. She just hums and leans closer to the bar in an effort to find someone to serve them.

That rat, Nicole thinks. It’s so obvious now. Lying to his fiancée, who doesn’t know any better, about having to work all the time so he can presumably see Wynonna instead. It raises her blood pressure just to be sat near him so she pointedly swings back around, offering him nothing but her back. Chrissy frowns at her but thankfully doesn’t ask.

Eliza taps impatiently on the bar and when she notices, Chrissy says ‘Your brother’s over there,’ pointing to Champ collecting empty glasses across the room.

‘Wait, what?’

‘What, you can’t see the family resemblance?’ Eliza says, theatrically framing her own face. ‘No. He’s my half-brother but…why split hairs?’

Nicole throws Chrissy a furtive glance but she completely misses it as Dolls says ‘I’ll go.’ and moves to go get him but when he steps back, he’s caught from behind by someone and he spins around aggressively before he’s even had time to find out who it is.

It turns out to be Doc and the two square up to one another, setting their jaws like they’re about to throw down. Nicole readies herself to jump up and diffuse but Doc just smiles and side-steps around him, muttering ‘My sincerest apologies, Partner.’ which doesn’t sound very sincere at all.

It’s really intense for a second and Nicole has no idea what’s going on. No-one else even seems to have noticed. Eliza has gotten Champ’s attention herself and is now ordering drinks; Chrissy is waving towards the doorway because Wynonna and Waverly have also just arrived; Doc has walked away towards the stage area and Dolls, still looking a little pissed, is now silently brooding on the edge of it all.

She’s definitely missing something.

Wynonna gives the gathered group a tight smile and not much else but Nicole catches her and Dolls exchange a look before she gets distracted by Waverly. She’s smiling from ear to ear as she slides past her sister and comes to stand close between Nicole and Chrissy. She rests her arms around both of their shoulders and it’s a gesture that surprises and relieves Nicole. It’s not awkward at all. If anything, it’s nice.

‘You came!’

‘I did. I, uh, hope that’s OK?’ Nicole says uncertainly.

‘Of course it’s OK. I invited you. It’s nice to see you.’

She smiles shyly and Chrissy watches them for a second before pointedly saying ‘Hey, Waves.’

‘Hi! Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your message. We were in rehearsal.’

‘That’s OK. I was being nosy more than anything else.’

Nicole knows she must have asked about last night and feels guilty that Chrissy has gotten her version of events before Waverly’s. To be honest, she’d like Waverly’s version some time too.

‘Not working this time?’ Nicole asks, really trying to be normal.

‘Not this week. I alternate with Champ. You get to see me do the _whole thing_ this time.’

Chrissy deliberately scratches her temple and tries not to laugh, feeling awkward about watching her friend flirt so openly. She can’t believe Nicole even has any doubts.

‘Come on, Waves.’ Wynonna suddenly says behind them, clicking her teeth and pointing towards the stage.

‘Coming,’ she replies and then looks back to Nicole. ‘Would you watch my coat?’

‘Oh. Yeah, sure.’

She beams and squeezes Nicole’s shoulder once in thanks then follows her sister and Dolls to start setting up for their show.

She’s wearing an above-knee skirt, long boots and a cropped shirt and if Nicole didn’t know any better, she’d say Waverly used her coat as an excuse to show off her outfit. It works either way and it takes every fibre of effort not to watch her walk away.

‘I’ll see you guys later.’ Eliza then says to them too, glass of wine in-hand as she heads over to a booth where there’s a group of women she clearly knows and once they’re alone again, Nicole’s curiosity gets the better of her.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Was that really obvious? Yeah.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Shoot.’

She isn’t sure how to phrase it so she just goes direct. ‘What’s the deal? With Dolls and Eliza?’

Chrissy scowls in confusion at the random question. ‘I dunno. They’re engaged? Uh, Eliza moved out to Vancouver with her Dad when she was a kid and didn’t really come back much until after she’d graduated college. When she did, she brought Dolls with her so I don’t really know much about either of them.’

‘But they seem pretty stable, right?’

‘I have absolutely no idea. Why, do you have a crush on her too?’

Maybe Chrissy isn’t the best person to ask about this. Nicole just shakes her head and says ‘Never mind.’

Just a half hour later and the bar is starting to fill up. Laughter and chatter have drowned out the jukebox completely and Waverly is finding it difficult to concentrate. She’s adjusting the fairy lights she’s wrapped around her mic stand for tonight but can’t seem to stop glancing over to the bar, where Nicole and Chrissy are sitting talking. Every so often, one or both of them will burst into laughter and she wishes she was over there with them. Nicole looks so beautiful when she laughs…

‘Earth to Waverly!’ Wynonna says and whips her gently in the arm with a cable.

‘Ouch! What?’

‘What do you mean, what? I’ve asked you like, four times,’ she replies, dangling the end of the cable in front of her. ‘Could you please just-’

‘Oh. Yeah, sorry...’

She connects the cable into the amp by her side and goes back to messing around with her lights. She chances another look over at Nicole to find her laughing so hard that she’s covered her face with her hands. She’s vaguely aware that Wynonna is talking to her but hasn’t heard a single word.

‘Does anyone want a drink?’ she says suddenly and Wynonna stops mid-sentence.

‘Whiskey would be wonderful, please.’ Doc replies but Dolls shakes his head.

‘Do you want anything?’ she directs at Wynonna.

‘Yeah. I want my sister to listen to me…’

But Waverly has already sprung down from the stage and is on her way back to the bar before Wynonna has even finished speaking.

‘…also, whiskey too! Please.’

She rolls her eyes and turns to find Doc looking curiously at her as he adjusts the strap on one of his guitars.

‘It’s currently unconfirmed,’ she tells him delicately. ‘But we think she has a _little_ crush on the redhead.’

He hides his surprise well but glances after Waverly anyway. ‘Is that so?’

Wynonna sighs and then finds herself sharing an uncomfortable look with Dolls over his drum kit.

‘Hey.’ Waverly says over the noise when she gets back to the bar and stands so close to Nicole that her hip is resting against her stool.

‘Hey. All set?’ Chrissy asks.

‘Almost. Just came over to get some drinks,’ She smiles at Nicole and is relieved when she smiles back. ‘Having fun?’

‘Yeah, I am. It’s a lot less nerve-wracking to be here as the audience.’

Chrissy clinks her glass against Nicole’s at that and Waverly chuckles awkwardly.

‘Guess you don’t want to hear my idea then?’

‘What idea?’

There’s a long pause where Waverly just tilts her head innocently and Nicole tuts.

‘No.’

‘What? I haven’t even said anything yet.’

‘You’re gonna ask me to play with you guys.’

Waverly opens her mouth like she’s going to disagree but says ‘Only one song.’ instead.

‘No, thanks.’ Nicole says on a snort at the exact same moment that Chrissy yells ‘Ohmigod, you totally should!’

‘What? No way! In what universe would that work?’

‘It’ll be so much fun though!’

‘Chrissy, I don’t know any of their songs.’

‘So what? These people are all drunk anyway...’

‘Ugh. Do you have your phone?’ Waverly asks, a little jealous at the rapport the pair seem to have developed already. The request confuses Nicole for a second but she pulls it out of her pocket anyway. ‘Check your notifications.’

Nicole sighs but does as she’s told and she finds that she has a Facebook Message…from Waverly. ‘What’s this?’

‘It’s tonight’s set list.’

‘No. No, no, no…Waverly, this is insane.’

She’s about to argue but Champ appears and she flags him over. She orders two whiskeys, a white wine plus another for both Chrissy and Nicole before zoning back in on Nicole’s protests again.

‘…I don’t even have a guitar here!’

‘So? Doc would let you borrow one of his. Come on, Nicole. You’ve played in bands before. There’s bound to be something on that list you know how to play. It’s one song!’

Nicole looks to Chrissy (for help mainly but she just smiles and rests her head on her hand) then down at her phone where four or five songs on the list annoyingly jump out at her.

‘Please?’ Waverly asks quietly. ‘I’d just, really love it if you joined us.’

Nicole really doesn’t want to…but how is she supposed to say no to that?

‘She’s annoying, isn’t she?’ Chrissy says with her nose scrunched up and Waverly taps her across the arm.

‘Just…let me look at the setlist. I’m not agreeing to anything!’ she adds forcefully but when Waverly puts her arm around her and pulls her into a tight side-hug that presses their cheeks together, all logic goes out of the window.

Champ clears his throat loudly and all but slams a tray of drinks down but Waverly just ignores him, giving Chrissy and Nicole theirs before picking up the others.

‘Thanks! Let me know, OK?’ she adds to Nicole and scurries off before she can change her mind.

Chrissy waits all of three seconds before saying ‘That was fucking pathetic,’ and Nicole rubs her face again. ‘Are there any songs on there that you actually know how to play?’

‘Yes.’ Nicole admits reluctantly, voice muffled by her hands. When she lowers them, she picks her phone up again and Chrissy shuffles in to read it with her.

‘Which one do you think you’ll go for?’

‘Probably that one.’ Nicole says, jabbing the screen with her thumb and the message shoots upwards. It’s only then that she notices the little “x” at the very end of the list and her insides leap. The things she’ll do for a pretty girl.

She sits up on her stool and looks over to the stage. Waverly is passing out drinks amongst her band-mates but catches her eye when she turns back around. Nicole begrudgingly mouths the word “Hootie” at her and it takes a second for Waverly to understand what she means…but then her face lights up.

Hootie & the Blowfish’s _Hold My Hand_ jumped out at her first and she figured she should probably go with her gut in this situation. She’s played it enough times to be able to muddle her way through it now.

‘Hootie?’ Waverly mouths back to confirm and Nicole nods.

Then she’s giving her a double thumbs-up and spinning around to huddle with the band. Nicole feels sick and isn’t helped at all by Chrissy cackling with laughter beside her.

It’s almost 9 and the bar is packed; Nicole hasn’t even chanced going to the bathroom for fear of losing her seat. There are way more people here now than there were last night and she looks around, feeling more and more apprehensive every time someone new walks in. Almost every adult in Purgatory must be here; even Sheriff Nedley and a couple of the guys from the PSD have shown up and she honestly feels like she could hurl.

It’s an alien feeling. She never usually gets any form of stage-fright but _this_? _This_ is flying pretty close to overwhelming.

‘Are you alright?’ Chrissy shouts over the noise and she nods…because what else can she do? ‘You sure?’

She nods again and says ‘There’s just _a lot_ of people here.’

Nicole expects her to say something like “it’ll be fine” or “don’t worry about it” but what she actually says is ‘Yeah, but you won’t die or anything.’

‘That’s very comforting. Thank you.’

Chrissy grins and taps her knee a couple of times as the whole place starts to swell with applause - the band are finally ready to start.

‘Good evening, everybody,’ Doc says into his mic and Nicole and Chrissy get to their feet to join in with everyone else as they cheer and clap. ‘Here we go.’

They have a pretty professional set-up tonight. It’s a fuller stage with Waverly’s double-keyboards at the front this time and every upright stand – the mics, the drum hardware, everything – have white fairy lights twisted around them. There are tonnes of amps arranged all over the place and cables snaked every which way on the floor, like perfectly organised spaghetti.

Doc steps away from the mic for a second and lets Dolls count them into their first song with his drumsticks. Then the bar lights flick off and the whole place seems to come alive. The band’s lighting system casts everyone’s face in a steady cycle of pink, blue, purple and white in time to the song they’ve just burst into.

Doc takes lead vocals with Waverly and Wynonna providing perfectly harmonised back-up and, as nervous as she is, Nicole can’t deny that a crowd this big makes the effect the band has that much more extraordinary. She and Chrissy sway along, having to stay on their feet to be able to see and while Nicole would normally just watch the guitarist in any band, her eyes stay pretty much exclusively on Waverly throughout the first song. She has her keyboards set up sideways so that they aren’t between herself and the crowd and she spends most of the time not even watching her fingers. She seems to rely entirely on instinct and knowledge and it’s incredibly sexy to watch.

Wynonna then moves front and centre for the next one as they rile the crowd up with something a little wilder before transitioning into song three and Waverly’s turn to bat. She’s left almost completely alone on vocals with her sister only helping to fill out the chorus and Doc just wanders around as he plays along. Nicole thinks it’s sweet of him to allow each of the girls to have their moment in the spotlight even though he’s arguably the front-man.

It’s flawless, as usual, and it takes Nicole an age to realise that she’s concentrating so hard on Waverly’s singing that she’s stopped dancing; like she can’t do the two things at once.

They play another couple of songs and Nicole finds herself going down the setlist on her phone, counting down until they get to Hootie. Her anxiety levels are still sky-high but she’s also kind of excited to get up there now that she’s seen how keen the crowd are tonight. There’s no better feeling. Well, hardly any.

One song to go.

Issues from earlier obviously forgotten (or at least put to one side for now), Doc and Dolls work together to sync the finale of their latest offering and Wynonna and Waverly watch each other for cues. It’s expert-level timing from the four of them as they all finish within a beat of each other and Nicole would have revelled in it if she wasn’t currently doing deep breathing exercises on her stool at the bar. She looks up to find Doc inviting Waverly to use his central microphone.

‘Alright guys, can I just ask - who was here last night?’ she says sweetly into it and about a quarter of the crowd whoop, including Chrissy pretty much right in Nicole’s ear. ‘Great! Because we’re gonna try a little experiment now...’

She then beckons Nicole over and everyone in the room seems to turn to face her. She sighs as Chrissy paddles her shoulders like she’s entering a boxing ring then makes to squeeze her way through the crowd. There’s a staggered understanding as to what’s happening and the applause gets louder and louder the closer she gets to the stage.

When she reaches it, Doc offers his hand to help her up even though it’s not that high and then passes over a dark grey acoustic guitar that is already hooked up to the amps and mixer board. It’s absolutely beautiful but also triggers a minor panic – acoustic guitar always starts first in _Hold My Hand_.

She gulps.

But it’s too late now so she flips the strap over her head and finds she doesn’t even have to adjust it. It’s set up perfectly for her to just slot right in.

She chooses to stand at Waverly’s right-hand side, the tiny stage getting pretty crowded now, and strums the guitar a couple of times out of nervousness. The notes ring out loudly across the room and she quickly throws her hand over the strings to silence it.

‘Ready?’ Waverly asks her into the microphone and the crowd chuckles.

‘As I’ll ever be.’

Waverly beams at that and Nicole glances around at the other band members. Doc winks kindly; Wynonna gives her a half-smile and fidgets with her bass but Dolls doesn’t look at her at all. He just rocks his head from side to side like he’s cracking his neck.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Nicole Haught!’

The bar hoots and hollers at Waverly’s announcement and Nicole gives them a sarcastic little curtsey as Doc looks over. Feeling more confident now that she’s up here, she nods to him and starts them off.

From the very first note and all the way through the intro, Waverly grins but points to herself as they near the part where the lyrics start. Nicole is relieved that she’s not expected to sing it as well and nods, stomach flipping when Wynonna joins in on bass. It sounds _amazing_ ; almost like the actual song when Waverly sings the first line.

_‘With a little love and some tenderness. We’ll walk upon the water; we’ll rise above the mist.’_

There’s something charming about playing along to Waverly’s singing. Nicole finds she watches her more than her own hands, using the way she phrases the lyrics to determine when to change chords instead of the song itself.

 _‘With a little peace-’_ she continues as Doc comes in on lead guitar _. ‘-and some harmony. We’ll take the world together. We’ll take it by the hand…’_

 _‘Coz I got a hand for you,’_ she, Wynonna and Doc sing together and Dolls finally joins in with a crash. _‘I wanna run with you.’_

When the second verse starts, Waverly tilts herself around so that she’s looking at Nicole and proceeds to glance over at her off and on all the way through the rest of the song. Nicole just smiles every time and sings along at the chorus even though she doesn’t have a microphone. When Waverly realises, she pulls her closer by the elbow and allows her to share hers, singing the words “hold my hand” repeatedly three inches from Nicole’s face like it’s fine.

By the last chorus, the entire bar is singing along at the top of their lungs and Nicole has never had a reaction like it. Everyone has their arms in the air, most with drinks in one of their hands or cell phones out and she finds that she’s disappointed it’s over when they bring the song to a triumphant close.

The bar is like a solid wall of noise for them and she’s shy when the rest of the band (excluding Dolls, of course) clap enthusiastically in her direction. She bows timidly and hands the guitar back to Doc as Waverly shouts ‘Nicole Haught, everybody!’ to another surge in applause.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling and, carried away in the atmosphere, she puts her arm around Waverly’s waist and pulls her in to kiss her firmly on the cheek. She means it in thanks but Waverly responds by patting her above her heart and hooking her index finger into the collar of Nicole’s t-shirt…just for a split second.

Breathless like she’s just been punched in the chest, Nicole then jumps down off the stage and has her hair ruffled and back clapped all the way back to the bar. The band, meanwhile, launch themselves into their next track.

‘OK. I need your number.’ Chrissy tells her matter-of-factly when she gets back.

‘What? Why?’

‘Because,’ she says, holding up her phone where there’s a video of the band plus Nicole paused on the screen at the exact moment she pulled Waverly in. ‘You need to see this if you think for one second that Waverly Earp doesn’t have a crush on you.’

Nicole huddles in so that Chrissy can show her and Champ, standing only a couple of feet away, grinds his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments are SO KIND for this story so far. Thank you so much! Hope it continues to keep you interested :) I know this part is very Nicole/Chrissy-centric but we do move back to Wayhaught after this.
> 
> I'm basically using Chrissy as the "deliverer-of-news character" and she has to "get very specific facts right coz we know it's important for the story" ;)
> 
> SONGS:  
> "Hold My Hand" by Hootie & The Blowfish


	5. Fine Tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'How are your fingers?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let there be Wayhaught...
> 
> PS I'm so excited for 4b starting on Friday!!

The park is busy on Saturday morning. A bright day plus the four inches of fresh powder that the universe dumped on Purgatory overnight has had residents of all ages out and about since sun-up to take advantage. There’s a couple of groups at the top of a nearby hill, using the slope for sledding and the high schoolers are back in their skates on the pond, an intense game of three-on-three already well underway.

Because it’s their last shift as unofficial partners, Nicole and Lonnie float around on another foot-patrol, weaving between families as they sip on a Christmas blend of hot chocolate that the woman from the coffee cart gave them for free. They stop for a couple of minutes each time they complete a loop to watch the progress of the hockey and have somehow come to the agreement that Nicole will root for the three kids in red (“Calgary colours” as Lonnie puts it) while he passionately supports the ones wearing the town’s Blue Devils jerseys. The reds have just taken the lead and Lonnie is so furious that he seems to have totally forgotten that all six kids are in fact from Purgatory and no matter what the end result may be, the town will technically still win.

‘Nooo!’ he shouts and Nicole glances around to make sure they aren’t attracting too much attention from the gathered crowd. Luckily, everyone else seems just as invested so Lonnie is blending in more than he’s standing out.

When play resumes, she takes a drink from her cup just as a middle-aged guy and his kids walk in front of them. He says ‘Hey. Nice going last night, Officer Haught.’ in passing and it’s the seventh or eighth comment of the like so far this morning. She almost chokes in her rush thank him, still just as surprised now as she was for the first one.

‘Oh. Thank you so much!’

He smiles kindly over his shoulder and Lonnie watches until they’re out of earshot before saying ‘Jeez, it’s like you’re the second coming or something.’

‘I know. Everyone’s been so nice about it.’

There’s a collective groan at a near-miss and Lonnie whips back around to assess the state of play.

‘Well, we know who we have to thank for your newfound fame, don’t we?’

Nicole rolls her eyes and hums at that. Yes. Yes, we do.

Chrissy had decided it would be a _great_ idea to upload her video to the Shorty’s Facebook page last night and Nicole had woken up this morning to dozens of likes and comments from townsfolk she’s never even met yet. She thinks it’s pretty safe to assume that everyone in Purgatory has now seen their performance, whether they were there last night or not and while the music part of the footage is perfectly fine (in fact, probably the most fun she’s ever had on stage), she does have slight concern about the other thing…

From the repeated eye contact and glances down at her lips to the kiss on her cheek and Chrissy’s apparent obsession with zooming in; her crush on Waverly is _painfully_ obvious throughout. So much so that there’d even been a few people mention it in the comments. She has no idea if Waverly’s seen it or what she thinks about it; whether she’s read the comments or whether Wynonna might have and it’s just added a little extra facet of _arghhhh_ where she really didn’t need it.

‘Ugh,’ she huffs. ‘Come on, we should-’

Then someone calls her name.

She hears it but has no idea where it came from so she looks around in all directions; even behind herself. The voice shouts again and Lonnie nudges her to look down at the rink. It’s the kid from Open Mic Night; the dark-haired girl who played the drums for the rockabilly slot. She’s wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt underneath a Blue Devils jersey and has a dark red toque on her head. She’s out of breath by the time she reaches them, having ditched the game mid-play and negotiated the steep bank on her skates.

‘Nicole!’

‘Uh, yeah, kid?’

‘Oh right, yeah. Sorry. Name’s Valdez.’ she says, jabbing herself proudly in the chest with a gloved thumb and Lonnie snorts.

‘First name: Rachel,’ he tells Nicole as the kid rolls her eyes. ‘What are you _doing_?’

‘They can spare me for a sec’.’

‘We’re losing!’

‘It’s not a real game, Lonnie.’

‘Is everything OK?’ Nicole cuts in quickly before he can argue back, desperately trying to be the grown-up here.

‘Yeah, all good. Just wanted to tell you how dope you were at Shorty’s last night. And the night before, obviously.’

Nicole’s eyes widen. ‘Oh! Thanks. That’s really nice of you.’

The girl, Rachel, smiles at that but there’s a long pause. She shuffles her hockey stick to the other hand awkwardly as Lonnie’s eyes flick between the two, clearly wanting them to say whatever they need to say so that she can get back down onto the ice.

‘Uh, you guys were really good too,’ Nicole finally tells her, hoping she understands that she genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to fill the silence. ‘Although I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t have been there at all. What are you, sixteen? Seventeen?’

‘She’s seventeen.’ Lonnie says before Rachel can even open her mouth. ‘Does your Mom know?’

‘That I’m seventeen? Yeah, I think she probably does.’

He gives her retort a tight smile like he knows there’s no real malice in it and the crowd cheers again. The red team have managed to ping the puck into the goal and the remaining blues are looking around frantically for their missing team-mate.

‘Uh, shouldn’t you-’ Nicole suggests but Rachel is unconcerned.

‘They’re fine. I’ve gotten them out of worse.’

‘Star player, eh?’

‘You know it.’

Nicole smiles when it becomes clear that she’s joking and Rachel shuffles around on her skates to head back.

‘Anyway. I just wanted to tell you that so-’

‘Well, that was really sweet. Thank you…but we’re not done talking about Shorty’s, OK? We’ll finish this some other time…’

The kid just hums lightly and waddles away, only to come back a second later to invite Nicole in for a fist-bump. She hesitates in surprise for a second, like it might be some kind of trick, but then gently knocks her gloved hand against it.

Then Rachel leaves, throwing ‘You and Waverly Earp are cute, by the way.’ over her VALDEZ-adorned shoulder as she goes. She’s back down the bank and making her presence felt on the ice once more before Nicole can even fully process what she said.

The Devils’ comeback is on immediately and Lonnie is so excited, he almost forgets to make fun of her.

Later that night, when her shift is finally over, she leaves the PSD holding a duffle bag stuffed with her uniform. She’d made a half-baked decision this morning to take a change of clothes with her just in case the others were planning on heading to Shorty’s for drinks after work. She figured she’d tag along for an hour and, with any luck, be able to catch a moment with Waverly in the process.

She’d love to be able to talk to her about things and maybe try and figure out where they stand…but is a bar on a Saturday night while she’s on the clock really the time and place to get into it?

Probably not.

Plus, she doesn’t know if she’s even working _and_ her colleagues decided against it tonight so now, she’s not really sure what to do with herself.

She hesitates on the kerb outside the Sheriff’s Department, head tilted to one side, and studies the bar across the street. She can hear muffled music and drunken chatter filtering over and wonders how busy it is inside. Is Waverly even in there? Is she rushing around, taking orders or is she singing along softly to the jukebox while she fills glasses? Maybe she’s clearing tables and silently wondering if Nicole might swing by…?

 _Oh, God,_ she thinks to herself before deciding against going to find out. She doesn’t want to distract her if she _is_ working nor force a conversation at the wrong time and risk the whole thing going toes-up as a result. She figures that, if she’s patient, a real opportunity will present itself eventually.

After deciding to just head home instead, she makes for the corner of the PSD building, about to round it onto Buffalo when she bumps straight into someone emerging from the shadows in the opposite direction. As the orange glow of the streetlight catches their face, she realises it’s Wynonna.

‘Oh, hey.’

‘Ugh, Wendy. We really need to stop doing this.’ she says dryly, dusting herself down after their collision like she’s in a cartoon.

Nicole watches as she adjusts the wholly-unsuitable-for-the-weather shirt she’s wearing under an equally-inappropriate fringed leather jacket and says ‘Sorry, I didn’t see you.’

‘Well, duh. Unless you can see through solid walls...?’

‘…OK. Well, it was nice to see you, Wynonna.’

She’s not really in the mood for her snarkiness tonight and she goes to walk straight past without another word but Wynonna turns with her and pinches at the sleeve of her jacket to get her to stop.

‘Wait! Hold up. It’s you I was coming to see, Officer dumb-dumb.’

Nicole raises her eyebrows and is about to ask if everything’s alright when Wynonna adopts a superior expression and holds up a hand.

‘It’s going to be just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you.’ she says, then clicks her fingers and points back the way she came, clearly expecting Nicole to follow.

If only she’d gone to Shorty’s after all, she thinks bitterly.

They shuffle along Buffalo at a fraction of Nicole’s natural walking pace and she’s getting increasingly irritated by the fact that Wynonna keeps inhaling like she’s about to speak, only to reconsider at the last moment. They’re almost outside Nicole’s gate when she finally, _finally_ commits.

‘So…we should probably talk about yesterday-’

‘Ugh. Wynonna, honestly. I really don’t wanna know.’

‘Well, that’s nice for you but unfortunately for the both of us, you _do_ know. So now _we_ -’ she flaps her hand around between them. ‘-have to talk about it. Why are we stopping?’

‘Well, because I live here. And I’m gonna freeze to death if you make me wander around town at this speed much longer. So whatever you have to say, you’ll have to say it right here.’

‘…You live in the Perley’s old place?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know it’s haunted…?’

‘Wynonna.’ Nicole snaps, imagining it probably doesn’t take much for her to fall off topic.

Wynonna jumps and scrunches up her face like she wants to growl but eventually composes herself with a sigh instead. She then looks up through her lashes with the same expression she had when Nicole first saw her at the construction site – sheepish and uneasy. Nicole folds her coat more tightly around herself against the frigid evening air and tries not to be too obvious with her annoyance when Wynonna takes her sweet time in getting on with it.

‘So, Waverly doesn’t know,’ she finally mutters and Nicole’s shoulders drop. She can already feel where this is going, just from that. ‘And I’m sure it won’t come as any great shock to you to know that I’ve screwed up _a lot_ in the past where she’s concerned so-’

‘So now we’re getting to it.’

‘What?’

‘What you came to find me for. You’re gonna ask me to lie. To cover for you with Waverly.’

‘Actually, no. I wasn’t.’ Wynonna counters, bristling at the assumption. ‘But I can tell you guys are becoming … _friends._ ’

The word hangs in the air between them like a threat and Nicole folds her arms across her chest in an effort to seem both immovable and innocent. The whole conversation is a power-grab and it feels like it’s bouncing around between them like a tennis ball.

‘-and while you seem a little Queen Mayor of Bossytown for my taste, I know Waverly likes you. So, if she does happen to find out somehow and she comes to you, then fine. Start a we-hate-Wynonna club. I don’t care. I’d just appreciate it if you didn’t go out of your way to _start_ that conversation.’

Nicole frowns at her weak stab at indifference, like the idea of Waverly ever hating her isn’t unbearable for her, then snorts. ‘So you _do_ want me to lie, but just by omission?’

She doesn’t hear what Wynonna says to that because she’s shaking her head and directing it all to her own shoes but she’s pretty sure she hears the word “insufferable” somewhere in there.

‘Look,’ she says, through clenched teeth. ‘I know the air must be nice and clear up there on that high horse of yours and that Deputy-Sheriff Barbie has probably never made a mistake in her entire life but this could wreck my family – what’s left of it – not to mention my band.’

‘Then why do it? Why do it if the stakes are so high?’

‘…What happened to not wanting to know anything, huh?’

‘You came to me, Wynonna,’ Nicole points out. ‘I’ve got my own shit going on and to be honest, I’d practically forgotten all about it…but now you’re making it seem like it’s something I _should_ be telling Waverly.’

‘So what? Now you’re blackmailing me?’

‘What are you talking about? I’m a police officer. Of course I’m not going to blackmail you!’

She’s talking really loudly, she knows, so she glances around to make they aren’t being overheard as Wynonna sulks and digs at a crack in the sidewalk with her shoe.

‘Is Waverly in any kind of danger here?’ she asks, more evenly. ‘Or is this just about what she might think of you when she finds out you’re sleeping with someone else’s fiancé? Y’know, one screw-up too far?’

She’s slipped into investigative-cop-mode and she watches Wynonna carefully for any giveaways, the answer obvious by her simple refusal to look at her.

‘The second one,’ Nicole deduces confidently. ‘Because you wouldn’t be doing it otherwise. It’s pure selfishness; you’re having your cake and eating it.’

Wynonna scoffs but she ignores her.

‘Why?’ she asks again and Wynonna takes eons to answer like it isn’t minus seventeen out here.

‘Because _he’s_ there. _He’s_ willing.’

She puts a funny emphasis on the word “he’s” and Nicole frowns. ‘ _He’s_ engaged to someone else.’

‘Yeah. Well, Eliza could never hate me as much as I hate myself so.’

That’s a weird thing to say, Nicole thinks, and she has to actively stop her reproach at Wynonna playing the victim in this scenario. They stand silently for a second and, resigned to her fate, Nicole rubs her face with frozen fingers.

‘Look, I said I didn’t want to know and I said I didn’t want to get involved so…I won’t tell Waverly. This is between you guys; it has nothing to do with me. _But_ , if she asks me anything directly, I’m not gonna lie for you either.’

‘That’s fine. That’s fair,’ Wynonna says and then adds ‘Thank you, Nicole.’ like it physically pains her. If they’d been in a better situation, Nicole might have made some kind of comment about her finally using her actual name instead of a stupid nickname but she can’t help but feel like now is not the time.

‘Are you alright?’ she asks instead and Wynonna gives her a weird thumbs-up/grimace combo.

‘Peachy.’

Then they fall into another long gap and Nicole wonders if now would be a good time to bid her goodnight. She isn’t sure why but she feels inexplicably exhausted after this conversation. When she opens her mouth to do it however, Wynonna says ‘We made a pretty good team last night, by the way.’ over the top of her.

She’s surprised by the comment (because it’s pleasant) and says ‘Yeah,’ with a small smile. ‘Yeah. It was…more fun than I’ve had in a long time, actually.’

‘Oop. Someone needs to get laid.’

‘Wynonna.’

‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Although, it might loosen you up, Bossypants.’

‘OK I’m going inside now.’

‘Come on, I’m only messing with you...’

Nicole is through her front gate and up on the porch when Wynonna shouts ‘Hey!’ and she reluctantly turns around again. ‘Why don’t you join us for a real jam some time?’

‘Not a chance. It was a one-time thing, Wynonna. But thanks anyway.’

‘Sure? I’m sure Waverly would love it if you came by.’

Nicole’s head whips round at that and she feels the tennis ball she worked so hard for bounce straight back to Wynonna.

‘Tuesday night at the homestead. 8pm; after Waverly’s shift.’ she calls over her shoulder and disappears through the gap in the hedge that Nicole has so far only seen her sister use.

***

She wakes up to another nice morning and seizes the opportunity to spend it outside doing some maintenance on the car. She wants to head back to Calgary tomorrow to hopefully visit IKEA and a few other places to finally make some headway on her furniture situation.

There’s only so many times she can wash that damn fork.

While the city is only ninety minutes each way, her car is basically a relic from the 1970s and any kind of journey could be it’s last if she doesn’t look after it; so she checks the brake fluid, puts air into the tyres, fills the washer bottle and is in the process of checking the oil when an unexpected arrival has her banging her head against the underside of the hood.

‘Morning!’

‘ _Ah!_ Son of a- _Oof_.’

It’s Waverly. At least, she thinks it’s Waverly. She _has_ just hit her head…

‘Oh, my God. I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!’

‘Y-yeah,’ Nicole smiles, more embarrassed than anything. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. How’re you doing?’

‘ _Me_? I’m good but I’m not the one who’s just hit my head.’

Nicole chuckles as she edges around the car, fidgeting with the oily rag she’s been using to wipe her hands on.

‘I’m fine, I swear.’

Her smile makes Waverly do the same; the one that crinkles up her eyes and she realises then that this is the first time they’ve seen each other in actual daylight. Waverly has her hands buried in the pockets of a thick winter coat, snow boots on her feet and her hair today is straight and shiny. God, if she thought she was beautiful in the gloom of the bar, it’s nothing compared to how she looks in the sunshine.

‘Just passing or-?’

‘Uh, well, yes and no. I heard from a semi-reliable source that you might be joining us for rehearsal on Tuesday?’

‘Oh God,’ Nicole sighs. ‘I haven’t committed to anything.’

‘No! No, I think it’s great! You should!’

‘Hmm…well, we’ll see.’

She pouts; honest-to-God _pouts_ at that and Nicole bites her lip to keep her amusement in check.

‘No work today?’ Waverly asks, distractedly changing the subject.

‘Nope; not today. I start my real shift schedule from tomorrow so I’m doing twelve-hour day shifts on Wednesdays and Thursdays and over-nights on weekends. Lonnie calls it the “initiation roster”.’

‘Ah,’ she says then pauses. ‘Wait. So, you’re free the next couple of days?’

‘Well, I’m off work…’

‘Oh, sure. Got anything fun planned?’

‘Nope. Well, not exactly. I’m headed back to Calgary tomorrow.’

‘You are?’ she asks in surprise.

‘Yup. Furniture shopping,’ Nicole explains with as much enthusiasm as she can muster - which is none. ‘I figure I can’t really put it off much longer.’

‘Sounds like fun,’ Waverly replies with a half-smile but then a thought seems to occur to her. ‘Do you think I could maybe…tag along?’

‘Wh-…Really?’

‘Yeah. If that’s OK, obviously?’

‘Of course! Of course, it’s OK. You won’t get bored?’

Waverly hums as she considers it then smiles again. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Then yeah. Absolutely. Yes. Please.’ Ugh. Shut up, Nicole.

‘Great! Uh…what time should I meet you for?’

‘Any time. Any time is good. I just have to drop Arlo off at his sitters first.’

At the sound of his name, his fuzzy blond face appears at the front door which Nicole left ajar. He’s been in and out all morning to wander around the yard while she works on the car and when he spots their visitor, he bounces over to the fence and stands up against it on his back legs to greet her.

‘Aw, hey Arlo! Hi!’ Waverly says and pets him happily over the top for a second. ‘Is it alright if I-?’

‘Yeah, sure. Come on in. Just try not to let him out…or else you’ll be in charge of catching him again.’

She smirks at Nicole’s playful wink and lifts the catch on the gate to sidle through, double-checking that it’s shut again behind her once she’s in. She then happily plays with Arlo for almost a half hour, running in circles as he chases her; rolling him onto his back so she can scratch his belly and playing tug of war with a broken piece of fence panel she found in the corner - all while Nicole finishes tinkering with the car, pretending that she isn’t really concentrating on them.

Just after noon, she finally drops the hood down with a victorious clunk and wipes her greasy hands one last time. Waverly is still there, crouched down in the snow with Arlo and trying to teach him how to give her a high-five. He’s no closer to understanding the concept now than he was when she started but she isn’t disheartened. She just keeps asking.

‘What do you say we go inside and warm up, eh?’ Nicole says and while she’s pretty sure she means it towards Arlo, her stomach vaults when Waverly pops to her feet and says ‘Ooh. Yes please.’

Without any hesitation, she sweetly instructs the dog to follow her (which he does) and brushes past Nicole with a smile on her way towards the porch, confidently leading them both into their own house. Her coat is already half-off when Nicole finally steps in behind her and closes the door.

‘You know what you need?’ Waverly says randomly, looking around and slipping her hands into her back pockets while she waits for Nicole to take her coat off too. ‘To make this place a little more cosy, I mean? A Christmas tree.’

‘Yeah,’ Nicole chuckles. ‘I don’t think that’s gonna be much of a priority this year somehow.’

‘Why not? You don’t like Christmas?’

‘No, it’s not that. It’s just…I don’t even have a bed yet let alone any holiday decorations.’

Waverly blinks twice. ‘You don’t have a bed?’

‘…No, not at the moment.’

‘But where do you sleep and stuff?’

Nicole can see a miniscule panic pass over her face about the suggestion behind “and stuff” but she chooses not to acknowledge it at the moment. She instead points to the staircase behind her with a single raised brow.

‘Huh.’ Waverly says, expressionless, as they stand on the threshold of Nicole’s bedroom.

She’s looking around the empty room like she’s being given the grand tour of some kind of eggshell dystopian bunker, taking in every detail, or lack thereof, from the drape-less windows, the carpet-less floor and the frame-less mattress which is still lying at the same weird angle it landed in when Nicole first dropped it down. While it does have nice jade green bed sheets on it and she did technically “make” it when she got up this morning, it does still look a little…unimaginative.

‘I’m pretty sure I’ve seen homeless people with more shit.’ Waverly jokes and Nicole’s eyebrow quirks at the language.

‘Exactly. So the plan is bed tomorrow then spend Tuesday afternoon building it up before-’

‘Yes?’ Waverly prompts optimistically, clearly hoping that she was about to say “rehearsal”.

‘Nothing. Before nothing. Come on; I need something to drink and warm my hands up on.’

Then she walks away, back towards the stairs to head down but Waverly lingers in the doorway a little longer. Her eyes drag across the bare windows with a view of the street outside and then slowly rake over the mattress; the bed sheets; the place where Nicole sleeps…and stuff.

She makes a point of not asking for a reminder about how Waverly likes her tea. She hopes it’ll come across better if she remembers for herself instead.

Waverly has sat herself down in the same chair she’d used on Thursday while she waits but seems much less tense today than she was then. She’s resting her chin lightly on her hand and looking at the bunch of flowers in the middle of the table with a small smile, sitting directly in a shaft of light coming through a nearby window. She looks so beautiful - almost like she’s glowing pale orange - that Nicole suspects the smile is less about the flowers and more because she knows she’s being watched.

 _Admired_.

‘Here you go.’ she tells her softly as she puts her tea down on the table, in the Calgary Flames mug, just like the last time.

Waverly thanks her and it’s warm and comfortable and quiet between them as Nicole takes the seat opposite. They just watch each other over their mugs as they sip and after a little while, Waverly hums.

‘How are your fingers?’ she asks and Nicole has no idea if she’s imagining the undertones to that or not.

‘Very good, yeah. Yours?’

‘Excellent.’

Her blink is slow and deliberate but she doesn’t look away. Nicole wets her suddenly dry lips with her tongue and Waverly watches.

‘Sooo,’ she says, elongating it quietly. ‘Last night was fun.’

‘It was. Yeah. Thanks for inviting me to do it.’

‘Shanghaiing you, more like.’

‘No, not at all,’ she laughs. ‘Let’s be honest; I didn’t exactly put up much of a fight.’

‘That’s true. You were pretty…pliable.’

Nicole rolls her eyes as Waverly smirks and they both take the opportunity to have a drink.

‘You should come on Tuesday, y’know,’ Waverly says afterward. ‘To the homestead. You’d probably enjoy it more than you think.’

‘I dunno...’

But she does know because, in truth, she’d love to go out to the Earps and jam with them. Last night was amazing. But she’s mostly concerned about hanging out with Wynonna and Dolls when she knows something about them that no-one else in the room knows. She’s nervous about saying the wrong thing and potentially wrecking everything like Wynonna said. She’s always been terrible with secrets.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, I don’t really know any of your songs for starters.’

‘Well, that’s OK…I can help with that,’ she says and she pulls her phone out of her pocket. ‘Look.’

She gestures for Nicole to come closer and holds her phone between them so she can see the screen. She gets a glimpse of the pretty sunflower she has set as her lock-screen before it goes black and the Spotify logo appears.

‘So, this is our band playlist,’ she explains. ‘Every song we’ve ever performed whether it’s a regular in our set at Shorty’s or requests made by people we’ve done events for. It’s mostly country or rock types but there’s a little bit of everything in there. The stuff we do most often is arranged at the top but it’s collaborative so we can all add stuff we’d like to try too…I can share it with you and you can take a look if you want? See if anything on it interests you.’

She’s clearly proud of her creation and Nicole can’t bring herself to tell her that it’s OK, she probably won’t use it. So she nods her head and Waverly sends her a link to it via Facebook.

‘Hopefully you’ll find something you like,’ she says quietly as Nicole scrolls. ‘But if not, you should come anyway; just to hang out.’

Nicole looks up from the extensive list of songs and realises too late that they’re still sat right next to each other. Waverly’s eventual sigh comes out a little shaky.

‘OK.’ Nicole whispers.

‘OK?’

‘…OK, I’ll come by on Tuesday.’ Oh, God. Maybe she is “pliable”.

Waverly works hard, she can tell, to keep her face neutral and she glances down at her mouth when she says ‘Good.’

Then she takes a deep breath, sits up in her seat and takes a gulp from her mug.

‘So, what are you doing with the rest of your Sunday?’

‘Uh,’ Nicole says, a little off balance by the sudden shift in mood. ‘Nothing much. I was basically going to mess with the car until I lost all the feeling in my hands then spend the rest of the day watching Netflix or playing with the dog. And I’ve already done step one.’

‘AKA the perfect Sunday,’ Waverly tells her. ‘I, uh, don’t suppose you want company for any of that? Wynonna kicked me out and told me not to come back “until it’s not Sunday anymore”.’

Nicole frowns but Waverly just rolls her eyes.

‘I was gonna go to Chrissy’s but-’

‘No, please. Stay as long as you want. I’m sorry there’s not much to do here though…’

‘Uh, hello? Christmas movies on Netflix while playing with your adorable dog. There are only a few better ways to spend time than that.’

Nicole almost asks but says ‘Uh, I didn’t say anything about Christmas movies.’ instead.

Waverly makes a show of slurping her tea.

Nicole pops outside to make sure the car is locked and all her equipment is put away in the garage before she comes back in, stomps her snowy feet on the welcome mat and hangs her coat up again. She’s just pulling off her boots when Waverly shyly emerges from the living room and there’s a brief moment where she’s worried that she’s changed her mind about staying.

‘You OK?’ Nicole asks hesitantly.

‘Yeah. It’s just kinda cold in there. I was wondering if you had a sweater or something I could borrow? So I don’t have to sit in my jacket.’

‘Oh!’ she says, trying not to sound too relieved. ‘Sure. Just gimme a second. I’ll have to dig something out.’

‘If it’s a problem I-’

‘It’s not. It’ll take me two minutes. Go have a seat, I’ll be right back.’

Waverly smiles and goes back into the living room and Nicole can hear the tell-tale sound of butt hitting beanbag as she climbs the stairs two at a time. She goes into one of the spare bedrooms and moves a couple of boxes around to get to the one she knows she needs. It takes her about fifteen seconds to find what she’s looking for and she shakes it out to make sure it’s not too creased before she heads back downstairs and pads towards where Waverly is sitting. She swivels to smile up at her and Nicole holds the item up proudly, waiting for her to confirm whether or not it’ll do the trick.

‘Oh, my God. You’re _obsessed,_ ’ she says on a laugh and takes the red and black Calgary Flames hockey jersey from her to have a better look. ‘I take it you’re a big hockey fan?’

‘Yes Ma’am. Hockey, baseball, soccer, basketball…I’ll even watch the curling if it’s on TV.’

Waverly laughs again, thanking her for the top as she shuffles into it. It’s way too big for her but holy shit, does she look good in it as she pulls her hair out of the neck-hole.

‘I’ve hooked up your laptop,’ she says while Nicole quietly short-circuits. ‘But I don’t know your Netflix password.’

‘Just type in “NRH” and it should remember the rest.’

‘NRH? Ooh! What does the R stand for?’ she asks excitedly and Nicole takes pleasure in simply sticking her tongue out in response.

She then goes back into the kitchen to get her mug and a bag of popcorn she has in the cabinet and Waverly does a cute little grabby-hands motion at it when she spots it. Nicole hands it over without a fight and sits down beside her on the beanbag, careful to keep a respectable distance as Arlo wanders through the doorway to join them.

She scoops him into her lap and finishes her tea as Waverly puts a painstaking amount of concentration into picking a movie from the holiday section.

‘Can you see?’ she asks and Nicole nods. ‘Sure?’

‘Mmhmm.’

‘Well, I need you to help me balance it so I’m just gonna-’

She scoots over and settles so close that their legs are practically flush together and uses their knees to prop up the laptop as whatever Hallmark-quality, heterosexual drivel she’s picked fades in on the screen. Nicole doesn’t care what they watch, though. She’d watch an all-male version of _Pitch Perfect_ if it meant sitting this close to Waverly for it.

Half way through the first scene, she decides to kick off her shoes and get comfortable and the screen wobbles as she moves. Nicole lifts it so that she can access her feet easier and her fingers graze her leg as she takes hold of it.

‘Thanks.’ Waverly whispers like they’re in a movie theatre and Nicole smiles when she puts it back down again.

She looks so perfect when she’s asleep. Well, she looks perfect all the time but there’s something even more so about her now. Her face is relaxed and peaceful and her mouth is ever so slightly open. She’s balled herself up on the beanbag, chin inside the neck of the hockey jersey and hands up inside the sleeves. It’s not even that chilly in here, Nicole thinks, but she guesses Waverly just runs cold.

The movie finished a couple of minutes ago and she’d carefully lifted the laptop down onto the floor and waited, wondering if she’d just wake up on her own once the sound stopped. But she didn’t and now the only noises in her entire house (which has gone dark in the meantime) are the slow breathing patterns of Arlo the dog and Waverly Earp.

Eager not to be caught watching her like a creep in the darkness, Nicole tries to pull herself out the depression her butt has made in the beanbag without jostling either of them too much. She thinks maybe she’ll start making something for dinner even though she has no idea if Waverly plans on staying. She has everything she needs to make tacos, she’s pretty sure, so she’d definitely be more than welcome if she wants to.

Freedom accomplished without any fallout, she tiptoes out into the hallway and over to the kitchen before putting on any lights then sets to work. She decides to put the playlist Waverly had given her earlier on quietly while she does because there’s no harm in listening to a couple of tracks while she’s busy, she figures.

She’s almost ready to plate up and worried that she might have to go and actually wake Waverly when she hears something behind her; like a little half-cough. She glances over her shoulder to find her leaning casually against the door jamb, eyes half-closed against the light she’s not acclimatised herself to yet. She’s still wearing the hockey jersey and doing a damn fine job of it too, especially now that she’s standing up. The sleeves hang over her hands and the hem falls somewhere between her butt and her knee.

‘Well, hey there.’ Nicole says, leaning back against the worktop to relish the image for a second.

‘Hey,’ she replies, voice still thick with sleep. ‘God, I’m so sorry, Nicole.’

‘What for?’

‘For falling asleep. That was so rude of me!’

Nicole laughs and almost, _almost_ lifts from her place to walk over there and just kiss Waverly’s concerns away.

‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it…the movie sucked anyway.’

‘Did they end up together?’

‘Of course they ended up together. But what they didn’t show us was them breaking up again before New Year.’

‘Nicole,’ Waverly giggles as she pushes herself off into the kitchen proper. ‘Mmm. It smells so good in here.’

‘Yeah. I made tacos, if you’re interested? I wasn’t sure so I made vegetarian ones too just in case.’

She comes right to Nicole’s side and leans over to look at the food she’s arranged in a large dish, then down to her phone on the bench where music she clearly recognises is quietly filtering from.

‘That’s so thoughtful,’ she says. ‘I’ll take one of each, please.’

‘Alrighty,’ Nicole replies, glad she hit on a meal that Waverly seems to like and puts a selection of tacos onto a plate for her. She hands it over with a smile and Waverly sleepily takes it back to the table to sit down where she huddles up, feet underneath herself. ‘I can get you another layer if you want?’

‘Hmm?’

‘If you’re-are you warm enough?’

‘Oh. Yeah, I’m really comfortable actually. You may have to prize this thing out of my cold, dead hands.’

Nicole chuckles as she joins her, her tacos piled up on a small side-plate that doesn’t match Waverly’s.

‘Hmm. So the beanbag’s comfortable, eh?’ she asks and Waverly snorts.

‘Yeah, you could say that. I don’t even think I sleep that deeply at home. I feel totally out of it; like I’ve been asleep for weeks.’

‘It’s only been like, an hour, I promise. I actually remember being told during a presentation at work once that half of your brain stays awake when you sleep somewhere new for the first time. As a defence mechanism or whatever.’

Waverly slow-chews while she listens, not even faltering at the implied idea of sleeping here more than once that Nicole wants to punch herself in the face for.

‘No, I think my whole entire brain was asleep just then. For sure. You should consider sleeping on that thing at night some time instead of in your hobo set-up upstairs.’

Nicole suddenly barks out a loud laugh and Waverly is relieved that she knew that was a joke.

‘Maybe. Although after tonight and tomorrow, I won't need to. Still up for that road-trip?’

‘For sure. Yes.’

Nicole smiles at her sureness then down at her plate as she sets to work on trying to pick up the next taco as tidily as she can.

‘All day today,’ Waverly then says quietly. ‘All day tomorrow and then rehearsal on Tuesday. We sure will be seeing a lot of each other.’

‘…I’m OK with it if you are?’

Waverly’s little smile stretches out slowly, all the way to her eyes, and she nods.

‘Hey, Nicole?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

She takes a deep breath and pushes her plate away a little. ‘Would you- _do you_ consider yourself…gay?’

Nicole looks up at the unexpected question but it doesn’t distract her from her meal. The answer requires very little thought. ‘Yeah. I do,’ she says and Waverly nods a couple of times. ‘Do you?’

‘No. No, I think I’m probably more…bisexual, maybe? I dunno. I’ve never actually said it out loud before. Chrissy knows that I’m not-y’know.’

‘Straight?’

‘Yeah. But I’ve never…put a label on it.’

‘Well,’ Nicole says kindly. ‘Technically you still don’t have to. And even if you did, you can always change it later if you wanted. You’re not pledging eternal allegiance to anything.’

Waverly seems far away and thoughtful for a second then says ‘True. That’s true.’ and Nicole reaches over to squeeze her hand.

‘You OK?’

‘Yeah,’ she smiles. ‘Yeah, I’m OK.’ then she flips her hand around so that it’s palm to palm with Nicole’s. Softly, slowly, deliberately; their fingers lace together.

‘Do you like the music?’ Waverly whispers and Nicole somehow nods without really nodding at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me @lollypopadoodle on Tumblr.
> 
> Next part up...well, as soon as I've written it (:
> 
> As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read and even comment. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying the story so far.


	6. New Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I'm not being weird!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - was totally distracted by having the actual show back earlier in the week that I'm two or three days behind where I should be. But better late than never, right?
> 
> I haven't done much re-reading/re-writing on this one yet but I might come back to it over the next few days to correct any typos etc
> 
> It takes place approximately 0.5 seconds after the last chapter. Enjoy!

Waverly’s thumb lightly skims her own then, tracing around the curve of her nail before sliding back down to the knuckle. It’s a relaxed yet completely intentional motion and she watches Nicole’s face the entire time, presumably for any sign that she might not like it…

…or maybe any sign at all that she does.

Nicole however is looking down at the table-top, hypnotised by her own hand and the attention it’s getting from Waverly’s. They’ve probably been softly intertwined for longer than is strictly necessary now with Waverly being almost methodical in her movements; purposeful yet cautious, like she’s trying to figure out whether or not Nicole might stop her.

But she doesn’t.

Because her hands are too soft, Nicole thinks. Her gorgeous, long, piano-playing fingers, topped with a dark red, almost burgundy nail polish, dancing alongside her own, labour-worn and plain. They still bear the faint oily traces of a morning spent under the hood (even though she’s washed them twice since she came inside) but the contrast doesn’t appear to be bothering Waverly. She seems perfectly content to carry on her ministrations, gently pressing her thumb underneath Nicole’s before slowly pulling it out again.

‘Is this OK?’ she asks, no louder than breathing.

‘Yeah, of course.’

‘No-’ she practically tuts, squeezing Nicole’s hand in instruction - _Look at me_ – and when she finally does, Waverly asks her so many questions while only voicing one. ‘Is _this_ OK?’

_Is it OK that I’m touching you…like this?_

_Is it OK even though you’ve just moved here and we’ve only known each other ten days?_

_Is it OK when you’ve just gotten divorced?_

_Is it OK that I feel this way?_

_…do you feel it too?_

Nicole holds her gaze for a long, quiet moment then whispers ‘Yes.’ and Waverly’s fingers finally stop moving.

Then the look on her face, unblinking and brave, has Nicole’s heart rate near doubled and while her breathing is still quiet, it’s also now shallow and quick. She’s pretty sure she’s about to use Waverly’s own hand as an anchor to pull her in with; that she’d be OK with that; _that she wants her to_ ; when Arlo suddenly barks from the floor by the doorway.

She hadn’t even heard him come in and she whips her head around at the noise, shrill and sour over the music and nuclear to their moment. She can see in her peripherals that Waverly has closed her eyes in what she thinks might be frustration and she can’t help but share the sentiment. Especially when she slips her hand out of Nicole’s grip and withdraws it slowly across the table.

‘He, uh,’ Nicole says, clearing her throat a little and feeling completely at sea now that her hand is lying empty. ‘He’s probably hungry. I’ll just-’

And she gets up, chair scraping across the kitchen floor as she does. Waverly doesn’t protest but she looks up through her lashes as Nicole walks away and then watches her closely as she moves around the room; reaching up into cabinets to get a dog bowl and a bag of kibble.

‘There you go, buddy.’ she tells Arlo quietly once his dish is on the floor in front of him and she tickles him behind the ear as she moves to stand up again.

But then the music from her phone suddenly stops and when she turns around to find out why, she comes face to face with a now resolute Waverly Earp, standing only inches away and looking up at her with an expression somewhere between a dare and a plea.

‘Whoa-’ she says in surprise but Waverly doesn’t react. Not even a blink. She just keeps staring at her then slowly, _irresistibly_ leans back against the worktop, gripping the edge with her perfect hands; watching all the time. But she says nothing…she just waits.

Waits for Nicole to catch up and finally come to _her_.

 _Because she can’t make it any clearer_ , she thinks almost bitterly to herself. The ball is completely, one hundred percent in Nicole’s court and all she can do now is stand here, as cool and confidently as she can manage and hope that she’ll do something with it. As long as-

_Oh._

Her apparently needless train of thought ends in a wreck right there as Nicole tentatively edges herself around and stops right in front of her. She stands so that her socked-feet are on either side of Waverly’s and shyly starts to reach out…

Waverly can practically hear her second-guessing herself as she ghosts the very tips of her fingers across the sides of her body, like her skin is made of glass or the ice and snow that blankets the town.

Barely able to feel it through the hockey jersey and her shirt underneath, Waverly lifts her hands and moves them to cover Nicole’s, eager to both prove to herself that yes, she really _is_ touching me, and hopefully also encourage her to keep going. She then trails them up over her wrists, to her lower arms and pulls gently…because even though they’re closer than they’ve ever been before, Nicole is still too far away.

‘Waverly?’ she murmurs as her eyes slip closed but Waverly already knows what she’s about to ask.

‘Yes,’ she replies. ‘I’m sure.’

And to prove the point, she leans up and touches her forehead to Nicole’s, angling her jaw so that their top lips brush over one another. She then runs her hands up the rest of the way and settles them on strong shoulders as Nicole hesitantly moves the last few millimetres and finally, _perfectly_ kisses her.

It’s so gentle; the way she holds Waverly’s lip between her own for a moment then softly releases it. But she doesn’t go far. She stays right there, in Waverly’s space, as they breathe in this new proximity. Nicole’s grip flexes ever so slightly on her waist and she responds in kind by squeezing the soft flesh between Nicole’s neck and shoulders.

‘God, Nicole.’ she whispers then rises up on the tips of her toes to decisively connect with her again.

She drags her nails through the roots of her hair while Nicole slides one of her arms around her and draws her in so that she’s tight against her front. She hopes Waverly doesn’t mind that she’s just ran her tongue across her lip, worried she might be getting a little too carried away too soon…but when she reacts by clutching at her like life depends on it, Nicole embraces her own excitement and lifts her onto the bench. Waverly gives a surprised little squeak without separating away and instinctively twists her legs around Nicole, even going so far as to lock them at the ankles to keep her in place.

It’s been such a long time since she kissed someone like this, Nicole thinks; hell, since _she_ was kissed like this. There was never even this much heat with Shae and she _married_ her. It makes her feel like a teenager again and she could swear they stay there for hours, hungrily taking more and more from each other when they decide that what they’ve already had isn’t enough. In reality, it’s probably only been a few minutes but, somehow, her hands have still ended up on Waverly’s hips under the hockey jersey and red polyester is pooled guiltily around her wrists. While she can’t feel skin because of the shirt Waverly has on underneath, she still thinks she should apologise for making such a suggestive move so early on.

‘Shit,’ she gasps, pulling back but staying close. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Yeah, I really hope that’s not true...’ Waverly counters all pink-lipped and breathless, chasing Nicole’s mouth.

‘No! No, not for- I mean for…getting so caught up.’

Waverly eyes her in confusion, using the unwelcome gap to get her breath back and, even though she’s still blissfully wrapped around her neck and waist, she’s disappointed when Nicole carefully removes her hands.

‘Nicole,’ she sighs and takes hold of them, bringing her even closer with her legs. ‘I _want_ you to get caught up. Caught up in the moment…caught up in me.’

Nicole glances up at the way she says it; like she can’t believe she’s desirable, and Waverly smiles, slowly guiding her hands back under the jersey where they were.

‘I want this, OK? Now would you stop being so damn considerate and just…kiss me?’

She returns her own hands to the back of Nicole’s head and waits for her to absorb what she said. It takes a moment but once she does, she nods and bows forward and Waverly gasps as she takes her lips between her own again. Nicole slips her hands down to her thighs and pulls her forward so that her hips are flush against her stomach and Waverly beams as she moves to fold her arms around her shoulders again.

Finding herself kissing teeth until she composes herself, Nicole then pushes her hands under Waverly’s legs so that they’re squeezing the muscle just below her ass and she receives a satisfied sigh in response.

‘Now,’ Waverly says when she needs air, whispering enticingly against her mouth. ‘The question is…beanbag or mattress?’

And her confidence in what is happening, her certainty that this what she wants makes Nicole feel fearless and focussed.

It’s infectious and it’s beautiful and it’s undeniable.

So she smirks and hoists Waverly up off the bench, into her arms, with another little squeal.

***

It’s the first morning since she got to Purgatory that she’s woken up comfortable and warm. The complete absence of carpet and drapes coupled with the fact that her bed is literally on the floor means it’s usually like an ice box in here. While she normally doesn’t mind because it can help encourage her to get up, right now she’s just thankful for this morning’s winter sunlight and whatever the warm thing is that’s touching her face.

‘Ugh. In a minute, Arlo.’ she tells him on a sigh, desperate to prolong this inexplicable serenity for as long as possible but she opens one eye when she receives a quiet giggle in response. She finds Waverly Earp lying next to her, head propped up on one hand and softly stroking her cheek with the other.

‘Hey?’ Nicole hums, as if not entirely convinced that she’s really there.

‘Good morning. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Nicole does what she can to shake her head while it’s still firmly embedded in the pillow and the corners of Waverly’s mouth twitch.

‘Did you sleep OK?’

‘Surprisingly, yeah,’ Waverly says, giving the mattress a cursory glance. ‘This thing’s more comfortable than I thought. I almost feel like I’m camping.’

Nicole snorts and adjusts herself so that she’s lying ever so slightly closer while Waverly watches her.

She then asks ‘Is it like, weird that I stayed over?’ nervously but Nicole is quick to reply.

‘Nope. I mean, it beats having to walk home in the dark, right?’

‘Y’know, Purgatory really isn’t that bad at night…’

‘Well, then humour me.’

She hides a grin behind an exaggerated eyeroll as she says ‘Yes, Officer Haught.’ and Nicole smiles.

God, she feels so content right now. Lying in bed on a bright morning with her crush right beside her after what had to be the best twenty-four-hour period she’s had in years.

Nicole had had no expectations. Zero. Just getting to spend time with Waverly one-on-one outside the confines of Shorty’s had been amazing. Then add to that the hours they’d spent playfully making out - pressing Waverly up against the wall by the piano, then again on their way up the stairs and even outside the bedroom door before finally going through it…

Then once they _had_ landed heavily on the mattress (and Waverly had gotten her jokes out of her system), the intensity of everything between them just seemed to peak. Each kiss was a little more charged, every touch more daring, every sound more suggestive and Waverly, straddling her at the time, had chosen her moment. She’d sat up straight then and slowly, breathlessly, raised her arms.

Nicole had simply watched, taking pause just in case, but Waverly stood firm.

‘If you don’t take it off, I will.’ she’d whispered, so gorgeous in the moonlight and Nicole was…powerless. She’d just sat up to kiss her again, only stopping long enough to get the jersey and her shirt off over her head.

Yes. Every distant, _maybe-some-day_ hope she’d had when it came to Waverly was definitely exceeded last night. And tenfold.

She shivers at the memory and lifts herself off the pillow, propping her own head up to mirror Waverly. She’s about to make some cheesy comment about their clothes lying all over the floor when Waverly says ‘You look so beautiful in the morning.’ with an almost palpable sincerity.

It takes Nicole by surprise but she doesn’t seem to need a response, asking ‘What happened here?’ a couple of seconds later. She’s gently tracing the small, barely-there scar that stretches across Nicole’s cheekbone and temple, studying the irregular shape with her fingertip like it’s a message written in braille.

‘It’s uh, actually from a bar fight.’

‘Whoa!’ she says in alarm. ‘You were in a bar fight?’

‘Well, only in a strictly official capacity...’

Waverly pauses then rolls her eyes again before continuing her examination of the mark.

‘I like it,’ she decides. ‘I mean, not the idea of you getting hurt, obviously, but…the fact that it’s part of you makes it kinda beautiful.’

‘OK, you’ve called me beautiful twice now. You’re gonna make my ego unbearable.’

‘I doubt it somehow,’ Waverly smiles. ‘But I still think it would be justified.’

Nicole watches her eyes, so absorbed in whatever she’s looking at. Then they flick to meet her.

‘ _Anyway_ ,’ she says pointedly. ‘I should probably go home. I need to shower and change coz well, we’re heading out to Calgary today, right?’

‘Oh yeah!’ Nicole says, having forgotten all about it and hoping her relief wasn’t too obvious. ‘Yeah. If you still want to?’

‘I’d love to.’

They fall back into staring at each other and when Nicole twitches her eyebrow, Waverly gasps like she’s just missed a kerb.

‘OK then.’ she announces and flops the covers over so she can climb out of bed.

She’s still completely naked when she sits up and Nicole quickly covers her eyes, landing flat on her back on the bed. She knows she technically saw it all last night but she doesn’t want Waverly to feel uncomfortable now that she’s in full daylight. It just seems like the courteous thing to do and Nicole is nothing if not polite.

Then she feels the mattress dip beside her again and soft hands circle her wrists.

‘Nicole,’ Waverly whispers, urging the barrier down. ‘It’s OK. I don’t mind if you look.’

She hesitates but slowly, obediently lowers her hands, keeping her sights set firmly on Waverly’s face. At least, at first. She does allow them to wander a little when she makes a show of sitting back…but then she’s clambering backwards onto her feet to continue the hunt for her clothes. Nicole watches her as respectfully as she can as she slips her jeans on first, sans underwear then the hockey jersey on top without bothering with her bra.

‘I’ll bring it back,’ she promises but Nicole is unconcerned, relishing the idea of an item of her clothing being twisted around Waverly’s bare skin. ‘I’ll be…maybe an hour?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

She glances back on her way to the door, taking in the sight of Nicole lying amongst the crumpled bed covers one more time and falters when she gives her a dimpled smile. Nicole is pretty sure she gulps before saying ‘ _Wow_. OK. I’ll uh, see you in a-WHOA!’

She leaps backwards as Arlo bursts through the door when she opens it, having been waiting on the other side for God knows how long. He then launches himself at the bed, onto Nicole’s chest and doesn’t allow her to push him back until he’s licked every part of her that he can reach. She’s vaguely aware of Waverly giggling as she struggles but when she’s finally able to look towards the doorway again, she’s gone.

Thirty seconds later, she hears the sound of the front door closing and when she’s sure Waverly’s left, she allows herself to squeal excitedly into the blankets and kick her legs while the dog bounces around, thinking it’s a game for his benefit.

By 9:00, she’s up, showered and dressed (having taken a little more care than usual) and is blissfully floating around the kitchen as she prepares breakfast for Arlo and Calamity Jane. Mind on the wander, she’s somehow managed to overfill both bowls with their respective kibbles to the point where they’re piled up like mountains and the excess is strewn all over the counter.

 _God, what is wrong with me_ she thinks as she snaps back, rounding the mess up with her hand and brushing it into one of the bags, strangely unbothered about it getting mixed up. She then offers their dishes to them the wrong way round and doesn’t even realise until Arlo has eaten more than half of Calamity Jane’s fish-shaped nuggets.

‘Gah!’ she tells him as she shoos him away and she could swear that cat just raised an eyebrow.

Ugh, it’s like she’s dreaming; like she literally never even woke up. As if her whole body is pins and needles and her mind is full of headrush…but in a good way. It’s so bizarre and she can’t seem to hold her focus on anything unless it involves Waverly and everything that happened last night.

Right on cue, she drifts again then and almost jumps out of her skin when the pop tart she’d mindlessly sunk into the toaster shoots upwards and lands with a plop on the windowsill.

Once she and the pets are finally fed and watered, she puts on her jacket and boots and heads outside to make a start on de-icing the car. She knows she’s being ridiculous but she also unwraps a new strawberry-scented air freshener and hangs it from the rear-view mirror before starting the engine to warm up the inside. She then dusts down the bench-style front seats to rid them of any dog hairs and is moving to hop back out again when she hears clicky footsteps coming towards her. It’s Chrissy, striding along the sidewalk from Main and when she sees that Nicole has noticed her, she throws her hands up in the air theatrically and grins.

‘I come in peace,’ she says, one hand clutching a small brown bag. ‘Don’t shoot!’

Nicole frowns. ‘What?’

‘Well, I figured you might be a little _whatever_ about the eye-sex video…Sorry, I mean “the band video” being up on Facebook so-’

Oh yeah, Nicole thinks, having forgotten all about it along with everything else that isn’t Waverly-related.

She _was_ pretty mad, she supposes…but Chrissy has caught her at a good moment now so _screw it._ She just shrugs and smiles instead.

‘Wow,’ Chrissy says, eyebrows raised. ‘And I felt for sure I was gonna have to peel you off the ceiling. Nice morning?’

‘Yeah. Just…woke up happy I guess.’ Understatement of the century.

‘Aww that’s nice,’ she coos as she leans her arms on the fence and lowers her voice a little, glancing in all directions. ‘Have you heard anything from Waverly about it?’

‘…About my mood?’

‘About the video.’ she says with amusement like she’s talking to a child.

‘Oh. Uh, no…I haven’t.’

Chrissy pauses there for a second, mouth slightly open and eyes narrowed like Nicole has suddenly just become very suspicious. Then she chuckles and asks ‘What is _with_ you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you’re being really weird...’

‘I’m not being weird!’ Nicole replies, slightly offended.

‘Yes. You are. You’re being all… _smiley_.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are! What’s going on?’

Nicole is about spin some vague yarn about _maybe_ it’s because it’s a nice morning or _maybe_ because it’s almost Christmas or _maybe_ she’s just in a good mood when something to Chrissy’s left catches her attention and her focus suddenly shifts. Nicole wanders forwards to see around the car and finds Waverly, in her thick winter jacket with the Calgary Flames jersey folded neatly in her arms, stopped wide-eyed in her tracks a little further along the sidewalk, having just popped out through the hole in the hedge.

‘Morning, Waves,’ Chrissy says happily but her brow scrunches up when she gets no response even though Waverly is looking right at her. She watches as she glances uncertainly to Nicole and back again then tuts and says ‘OK, have I missed something being handed out in the alley behind the pharmacy again? Because you guys are _both_ acting really strange today.’

Nicole puffs out her cheeks and shakes her head in what she hopes is a totally normal, innocent gesture and Waverly laughs like she thinks that’s ridiculous. Chrissy doesn’t buy it - because, why would she? - and raises a sceptical eyebrow as she waits for some kind of explanation. She looks between them four or five times and her face relaxes into a silent, knowing gasp.

Nicole panics; worried she'll erupt in a million questions right here on the street before she’s even had a chance to discuss it with Waverly herself in private. She silently begs her not to say anything and throws a quick look Waverly’s way, suspecting the exact same thought is swirling around her head too given the look on her face.

Luckily, Chrissy decides to take it easy on them and just closes her mouth with a smirk. ‘Y’know what, maybe it’s the sunshine,’ she tells them with an exaggerated shrug, raising the little bag again. ‘ _Anyway_. I should go. My Dad’s lunch isn’t going to deliver itself. I’ll see you guys later…’

Then she turns on her heel as if to head back towards the PSD but says ‘Oh, and Waves?’ over her shoulder.

At the sound of her name, Waverly’s eyes ping guiltily from where they were watching Nicole and she winces in embarrassment when Chrissy instructs her to ‘Text me later, OK?’

Then with one final ‘Ciao, ladies’, she smugly struts away and Waverly goes boneless in her wake, jogging the final few steps towards Nicole’s driveway.

‘Oh, God.’ she hisses, adjusting the jersey on her arm so it doesn’t fall to the ground and then rubbing her temples.

‘How does she do that? How does she just…know things?’

Waverly just looks up in disbelief and says ‘Because we were about as subtle as Wynonna and Dolls, Nicole.’ then scurries towards the front door and into the house.

…Wait, _what?_

After corralling an almost unbearably excited Arlo into the car, Nicole pulls the Bronco up to the kerb outside Fish and Levi’s house. The dog has calmed down a little now, thank God, and is lying on the seat beside Waverly with his head on her knee. She has her hand wrapped sweetly around his front paw like she’s holding his hand and it makes Nicole smile that they’re thick as thieves already.

‘Wait a second,’ Waverly says after taking in the house they’ve arrived at. ‘Ambrose and Levi are Arlo’s sitters?’

‘…Yeah, why?’

‘No! No reason,’ she replies quickly, waving her free hand around. ‘We’re just, we’re playing their wedding in a couple of weeks.’

‘They’re engaged?’

‘Yeah. They’re actually getting married on Christmas Eve at the Wainwright. It’s this cute little hotel on the other side of town and they’ve given us a bunch of songs to learn for it,’ she explains excitedly then adds ‘They even asked me and Doc to play their first dance song.’ as she clutches at her heart.

‘Wow. That’s cool. I had no idea.’

‘Yeah! It’s gonna be like, _an event_. Pretty much the entire town is invited.’

‘Oh. Well, I’m still the new kid so…I guess I’ll cover the station so everyone else can go.’

Waverly’s eyebrows twitch downwards at that and Nicole undoes her seatbelt, whistling for Arlo to stand.

‘Anyway. I’ll just be a sec’.’ she says as she jumps down from the car and reaches over to scoop him up.

‘Aww. Bye, Arlo!’

Nicole carries him to the front gate but lets him down once it’s shut behind them and he’s enclosed. He immediately goes to bother a bed of winter-dead flowers in the corner as she heads towards the door to knock, only having to wait a couple of seconds before Fish pulls it open.

‘Good morning,’ he beams before shouting ‘Hey buddy!’ and the dog bounds straight up to him, into the house like he lives here.

‘Hey. Thanks again for doing this, Fish.’ Nicole tells him, watching Arlo disappear from sight like she’s a parent at the school gate.

‘No problem at all; our pleasure. Headed anywhere nice?’

‘Uh, we’re going out to Calgary but we won’t be too long I don’t think. A few hours.’

‘We?’ he asks curiously, glancing behind her towards the car and Waverly waves from the passenger seat. He waves back…but side-eyes Nicole with a lopsided grin.

Oh good, someone else who’s seen that video.

‘Yeah so, uh, I can text you when I’m-we’re- _I’m_ nearly home, if you want?’

‘No, that’s OK. Don’t worry about it. We’ll just…see you when we see you.’ he replies with a nod but it’s knowing, like something Chrissy would do and Nicole cringes.

‘OK well, thank you…again!’

‘No problem. Drive safe.’

He waits politely on the porch to see them off as Levi steps out of the house behind him and when Waverly spots him too, she waves again.

‘Was that Nicole?’ he asks Fish, confused as to what’s going on but waves back anyway. ‘I didn’t realise we had Arlo today…’

‘We weren’t supposed to but I told her we’d do her a favour.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. Because I think she’s going on a date…with Waverly Earp.’

‘Ah,’ Levi replies as the car pulls away and they watch it until it’s rounded the corner. ‘That was so obvious...’

They’re on the highway on the far side of Canmore, about twenty minutes out of Purgatory, before either of them really says anything. Waverly is leaning against the window, contentedly taking in the scenery while Nicole tries her best not to lose control of the car by watching her. She’s taken her coat and shoes off and folded her legs up onto the seat, looking completely at peace amongst the pine trees as they roll past her beyond the glass.

Other than tyres on asphalt and the deafening sound of Nicole’s own thoughts, the car is completely silent – somewhere between comfortable and awkward – and she’s desperately trying to come up with a way to start a conversation about everything that happened last night.

 _Because they can’t just_ not _discuss it_ , she thinks. They kissed. They had sex…twice, technically…and so far, nothing at all has been mentioned about it. Was it OK that it happened? Did she enjoy it? Does she never want it to happen again? These are all important questions!

She shuffles in her seat and tries to relax all while Waverly is seemingly totally oblivious; just calmly reading a sign for the Three Sisters Parkway as it flashes by.

OK, so maybe she could start with _So, about last night…_

Or maybe just say _Look, can we talk about yesterday?_ No. That’s way too serious.

Maybe she could ask if Chrissy has texted her yet and then lead in from there…

Yeah, that could work.

‘So, ha-’

‘God it’s so beautiful out here,’ Waverly suddenly sighs and it makes Nicole jump like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

‘Uh, yeah…it is.’

They’re about to cross a bridge over the Bow River and Waverly’s side of the car has a particularly stunning view of the mountains. She sits up in her seat for a second to try and see the water flowing beneath them before saying ‘It’s been such a long time since I got out of Purgatory. I forget sometimes.’

‘Oh,’ Nicole replies. ‘Well, I’m sorry that you’re not out here for a more exciting reason...’

She tries to smile but it comes out tight and gawky and Waverly just turns to her like she simply doesn’t agree.

‘I think this _is_ exciting.’

Then she adjusts her seatbelt and the way she’s sitting so that her back is against the door, instead of the seat, and she fully faces Nicole. She tentatively stretches her legs out so that her socked feet are close to but not quite touching her leg and Nicole has to swallow down the cop inside who wants to tell her that this is absolutely _not_ safe and that she really should sit forwards again.

‘Anything with you is exciting,’ Waverly then whispers, looking more at Nicole’s shoulder than her face.

‘…Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ she smiles. ‘Look, I feel like you’re probably one of those people who overthinks things and worries about everything so I just want you to know that…you don’t have to. I had a really great time last night...’

She bites her bottom lip after the last part and Nicole isn’t sure if it’s because she’s feeling nervous or something else.

‘…Like, no regrets or anything.’

There’s a long, dopey pause and Nicole’s eyes dart between her and the road ahead a few times before she says ‘Good…me too. Uh, I mean, I enjoyed it…also.’

Ugh.

Waverly’s eyes flick up mischievously then and she slides her feet a little further over to make gentle contact with Nicole’s thigh. She then flops them onto the floor and scoots over so that she’s sitting in the middle seat instead, using the pretext of hooking her phone up to the sound system (the only modern aspect of this entire car) as the reason for the move.

She queues up the band’s playlist and presses [Play] on a particularly gentle Miranda Lambert song before slotting her phone up onto the dashboard with another little sigh.

‘I, uh,’ she says quietly, settling back into her seat, practically shoulder to shoulder with Nicole. ‘I wouldn’t...be _opposed_ if it…happened again…sometime.’

Nicole looks down, surprised by her candour and chuckles when she sees her face because she’s clearly berating herself about the way she phrased that. She doesn’t make any jokes though; not right now. Not when she’s vulnerable and putting herself out there.

‘No,’ she says simply. Because if Waverly can be brave, then so can she. ‘Me either.’

Things are much more relaxed for the rest of the journey. Waverly stays in the centre seat and animatedly rattles off stories and facts about each song that comes on from the playlist. She explains why they were added in the first place, who normally takes lead vocals, little anecdotes about the other band members in relation and even goes off on a tangent about one song that they’d learned, completely against Wynonna’s wishes, simply because she’d lost some kind of trivial bet.

She listens intently to every word and laughs along with Waverly’s awful impersonations of Doc until talk naturally starts to turn towards her life before Purgatory. At least, it does now that they’ve just passed a road sign welcoming them to Calgary and taken an exit from the highway that descends into the city.

She can’t help but notice that the more questions Waverly asks, the more _she_ seems to clam up. As if she’s trying to find out as much as she can while also steering clear of any subject that she obviously thinks might end in mention of Shae.

Her jealousy (if that’s what it is) is seriously cute but totally misguided, Nicole thinks, as Waverly asks all about where she worked but not so much about where she lived; about where she liked to walk Arlo but nothing about her favourite restaurants and then a lot about her family but not so much about her friends. Nicole answers everything as fully but as diplomatically as possible because, quite frankly, she’s not all that interested in talking about Shae either.

As they pull into the parking lot at IKEA, Nicole tries to make conversation about how eager she is to finally get out of the car and stretch her legs but it falls flat. Waverly has been chewing her fingernails in silence for the last few minutes - ever since her questions dried up – and Nicole is concerned that, despite her care, she’s still managed to say something to upset her.

‘You OK?’ she asks as she rounds into a space and turns the engine off. The music goes off with it and it makes the weight of Waverly’s silence feel even heavier.

‘Yeah,’ she replies. ‘I just…feel like I’ve stepped into _your_ world.’

‘Oh. You’ve never been to Calgary before?’

‘No, I have. Lots of times in fact. But I always need a map, y’know? Whereas you just _drove here_. Like, you know the way, all the exits and stuff because…well, this is home for you, right? Oh, God,’ she then says, exasperated, and rubs at her face. ‘I’m sorry. I’m probably not making any sense...’

‘No, it’s OK. I get it.’ Nicole says kindly, because she does.

It’s so weird to think that it was just a couple of weeks ago that she was living here. Working over in Rosscarrock, going home every night to her tiny apartment to sit in passive-aggressive silence with Shae and then spend her nights sleeping on the couch. Or when she’d take Arlo out for walks in Edworthy at the weekends; usually by herself because she’d been desperate for the space when everything else was going wrong.

But now that she’s removed from it, it feels like she was barely _living_ here at all by the end. Suffocating in a cage she’d been in her whole life and never being brave enough to try anything outside of it. The day she’d come across the job in Purgatory, although she hadn’t known it at the time, had been the day she’d finally been able to breathe again and she marvels at how fast Calgary has become like an alien planet (even though, yes, she does still remember how to get to IKEA) and Purgatory has somehow morphed into home.

The more she thinks about that tiny mountain town, with its weird people and even weirder weather, the more she looks forward to leaving this place again, once and for all, just to get back to it.

‘Come on,’ she says, patting Waverly’s knee until she looks up. ‘The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go home.’

And it’s like she’s said the magic words. Waverly beams, nodding one, confirmatory time as Nicole opens the door to hop out. She’s about to close it behind her when she realises Waverly is coming the same way and they end up stood toe to toe in the narrow gap between their car and the one parked next to them. Nicole watches her for a second, debating whether or not they’re at a point where she can just lean down and kiss her, but Waverly looks away, pink-cheeked and shy, before she can do much more than smile.

Waverly is an excellent shopping companion, Nicole decides. She’s patient and helpful but not too opinionated; using logic and common sense more than anything as she weighs up the pros and cons of each bed frame. With her system, Nicole manages to narrow down a winner in record time and high-fives her right there beside the little pencil holder, much to Waverly’s amusement.

It’s been a pretty successful afternoon, all things considered.

They spend most of their time in the bedroom section but she does also manage to find a television unit she likes for the TV she doesn’t yet own and pick up a lot of stuff for the kitchen – plates, mugs, drinking glasses, cutlery, utensils and even a little organiser to slot inside the silverware drawer. Then after a quick drink and breather in the restaurant, they find what they’re after in the warehouse and wheel it all outside to begin the arduous task of trying to Tetris it into the car.

They manage eventually but because the box containing the bedframe is wedged up the centre, it means they can’t sit beside each other on the way back. Undeterred by the obstacle, Waverly slides her hand across the seat beneath it, somewhere between _Thank You for visiting Calgary_ and _Purgatory 110km,_ and Nicole wordlessly takes hold of it with her own.

The new tableware clatters together in the back of the car as Nicole carefully negotiates the uneven dirt track towards the Earp Homestead. It’s completely dark out here now and every little bump takes her and her dishes by surprise.

She could have dropped everything off at home first, she knows, but she was worried that Waverly might have just insisted on walking back from there instead and she really hates the idea of her heading out into the darkness by herself.

‘Don’t worry,’ she says suddenly, like she can tell Nicole was thinking about it. ‘It’s not much further.’

They passed the hole in the hedge a couple of minutes ago and Nicole is getting more and more sceptical of her previous claims of it being “five minutes away” when they crest over a ridge and what she assumes is Waverly and Wynonna’s house finally comes into view.

Her mouth falls open a little at the fact that this is _clearly_ the oldest property in Purgatory. Fenced the whole way round but with wooden arches over both entrances, the house and the barn beside it look ramshackle and decrepit…but also somehow warm and comfortable. She could also imagine it has a lot of land; likely a former ranch or similar and probably has killer views of the mountains in the daylight.

She pulls up between a Jeep and a battered blue pick-up truck that, if she was at work, she’d probably pull over for safety concerns, then turns off the engine and stretches her arms behind her head.

‘Thank you so much for taking me with you.’ Waverly says quietly, only her sleepy eyes visible above the box between them.

‘That’s OK. Thank you for coming with me.’

She can tell she’s smiling by the way her eyes crinkle as she moves to grab her bag and whatever she’s had lying on the seat beside her. ‘Uh…so, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?’

‘Wait…’ Nicole says quickly and Waverly’s eyebrows shoot up. Then she’s undoing her belt and jumping down from the car, trotting around the front so she can open her door for her. Waverly laughs and thanks her before Nicole closes it again with a clunk and shyly accompanies her to her front porch.

‘Such a gentlewoman,’ she purrs, nudging her in the shoulder with her own and Nicole smiles because, yeah. She hopes so. ‘I had a _really_ nice time with you today.’

‘Good. I’m glad. And uh, thank you for helping me finally choose a bed.’

Waverly laughs again as she climbs the couple of steps, leaving Nicole at ground-level but turns around again to lean against a pole. ‘There’s a joke in there somewhere, I’m sure.’

‘Yeah. A few, probably…’

‘Hmm. So, you are coming out here again tomorrow, right?’

Nicole nods and she smiles, satisfied.

‘Good. Just checking.’

Then they fall quiet until Waverly slowly steps back down a stair, still one above Nicole and puts her hands on her shoulders. She uses her to steady herself as she presses a soft kiss to her cheek, right beside her mouth, and says ‘Night, Nicole.’ against her skin.

And with one final wave and several glances back, she slips inside the house and Nicole waits until the door is fully closed before she blissfully retreats to the car.

She’s surprised when she has to yield for another vehicle on the way back. It’s not exactly a route that she imagines sees a lot of traffic, but she pulls over to one side anyway. Once it’s close enough for her headlights to reach it, she realises it’s the black SUV again – Xavier Dolls’ car – but its fancy xenon lights are too bright for her to be able to see inside.

She supposes he’s either picking Wynonna up or dropping her off and no wonder Waverly knows all about them after all. They’re not exactly being discreet…

But they agreed she’d stay out of it, so she just pulls slowly away again with nothing more than a sigh and an eyeroll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Apologies for the implied smut rather than explicitly described smut. I don't think I'm ready to tackle that yet but might come back to it in re-writes. Who knows...)
> 
> But anyway - Plotlines. Plotlines, everywhere!
> 
> No, I haven't forgotten about Waverly and Nicole being watched by a spoopy figure all those chapters ago or the fact that this is supposed to be a band AU. I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it :P
> 
> @lollypopadoodle on Tumblr


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